


Seasons Change

by country13



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Boys Kissing, Gay Sex, M/M, Neck Kissing, Oral Sex, Prison, Rough Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-01 20:44:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17251109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/country13/pseuds/country13
Summary: Ian Gallagher comes home from being with his mom for three days, convinced that breaking up with Mickey is the right thing to do.  They talk it out and Mickey convinces Ian to give them another shot, but then Mickey is arrested for the attempted murder of Ian's half-sister, Sammi.  Ian has to figure out what to do to get Mickey back home with him, where he belongs.





	1. It's Been So Long Since I Found You, Yet It Seems Like Yesterday

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year everyone! This is a 5x12 fix it fic. I know we've already gotten our endgame, but this story line has always bugged me to no end, and I just wanted to write something to fix that shit. This is my take on what I wanted to happen, and I wrote it to coincide with New Year's Eve. Once you read it, you'll understand how that happens. Just a couple things: There is no Svetalana and no Yevgeny in my story. I wanted to tell Ian and Mickey's story and only theirs. Also, I have no experience with prison or how the legal system works, so any inaccuracies or wrong statements are due to my lack of experience. I apologize in advance. Any and all mistakes are my own. Please let me know what you think! Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated!

It was a cold, gray morning in December on the South Side of Chicago as Ian Gallagher sat on the front steps of the Gallagher house, his hands shaking.   He figured it was either from not taking his meds for his bipolar disorder or from the cold ass Chicago winter wind that blew around him and cut through him like a torch cutting through steel, especially since all he was wearing was a ratty plaid long sleeve shirt and worn out jeans.  He held his cell phone in his unsteady hands, trying to press the call button, but he just couldn’t.  He could lie to himself and say it was the weather or his disease, but he knew the real reason.  And that reason was staring back at him.  That jet black hair and the sparkling blue eyes belonging to his boyfriend, Mickey. taunting him with all the missed calls he didn’t answer, the voicemails he didn’t listen to, and all the shit he undoubtedly put him through.  Ian wouldn’t have blamed him if he didn’t answer.  Fuck knows he deserved it. 

Ian had spent the last seventy two hours with his mom, Monica who he had been released to when she checked him out of the military prison he was in due to several infractions he had been accused of but he was expunged of them because of his disorder.  He had really thought at first that calling Monica and asking her to come would be a good idea.  They still talked on occasion, even though nobody else knew that. He had felt like she was the only one who could understand what he was going through, given her own bipolar diagnosis years ago.  But what resulted from her checking him out from the facility was a three day clusterfuck.  They hitchhiked and stopped at some seedy truck stop diner outside of town, where she told him to go on inside and order.  She didn’t join him at first.  Ian watched warily from the window of the diner as she went behind an eighteen wheeler and did fuck knows what with fuck knows who. She was only gone a couple minutes, and she came back into the diner to join Ian and proceeded to order practically everything on the damn menu.  He tried to confront her about it, but she would never give him a straight answer, instead she just looked down at her plate as she stabbed her food. 

After they finished eating, they hitchhiked further until they came to her “home,” if it could be called that.  It was a rundown trailer out in the middle of nowhere that didn’t even belong to her.  It didn’t even really belong to her 20-something year old boyfriend, he was just watching it for someone. Ian was born and raised on the Southside and had never felt like he was in any position to judge anybody’s living conditions, especially considering their old house the Gallaghers had grown up in with its cracking foundation and non-existent insulation during those cold, winter months, but this place was an absolute shithole.

 Her boyfriend’s name was Walter, and as he walked out to meet them, Ian knew the guy was bad news. Ian found out just how bad he was and also inadvertently discovered how Monica paid for their lunch.  He found the meth lab in the storage room when he went looking around the place that night, not wanting to hear his mom and her boyfriend fucking in the next room.  His mom was a meth dealer and her boyfriend was the cook.  That was the last straw for Ian.  Although he wasn’t in his right headspace, having been off his meds for those few days, even he knew this situation was fucked up and he didn’t want any part of it.  He had always known Monica was unstable, her behavior always erratic when she finally decided to show up to be a mom again to her kids.   But he had never known her to be a drug dealer.  A drug user, yeah, but not this. 

After he had been outside for a while, Monica came out to see what he was doing.  He asked her about the meth and she of course denied it.  She tried but failed to convince him that she was finally truly happy.  But something she said resonated with him.  She had told him to “be with people who accept you for who you are” and “find someone you love, who loves you back.  That’s the most important thing.” The whole time she was saying those words, all he could picture was Mickey’s face and the last time they had seen each other.  It had been when his bitch of a half sister, Sammi, had the MPs come to his house to arrest him.  Mickey had been so distraught, so scared, and had even tried to fight the arresting officers.  He really did that.  For Ian.  Before all that went down, they had talked about going on a date to Sizzlers.  It was Ian’s idea since they had never actually been on an official date.  It was going to be a great night, until they walked in the house and all the shit hit the fan.

The whole time Ian and his mom had been traveling, Mickey had called his phone incessantly, but he chose to ignore it.  He wanted to be with someone who understood him, understood what it was like to be a prisoner of your own mind, not knowing from one day to the next which end of the spectrum you would be on.  Monica understood that, even if she didn’t manage hers like she should.  Ian was trying but the meds made him so numb.  He didn’t feel the lows, but he didn’t feel the highs either.  He didn’t feel anything.  He hated not feeling. 

Ian left that same night, when his mom and Walter were passed out in a drug-induced sleep on the couch.  He went back the way he had come, hitchhiking until he finally made it back to Canaryville the next day.  When he got to the house, no one was there, so here he sat on the front steps of the house he had called home his entire life, trying to work up the courage to call his boyfriend.  He was sure everyone was worried about him, his brothers, his sisters, but Mickey was the only one who called him.  He was the only one who seemingly cared enough about where he was.

 Mickey loved him, and knowing that made this call even harder to make.  Ian loved him too, which was why he had made the difficult decision to break things off with Mickey. As much as he loved Mickey, he couldn’t keep doing this to him.  He didn’t want Mickey to have to constantly worry about if he took his meds or not, did he eat enough, did he get enough sleep.  Mickey didn’t deserve this life.  Ian had seen first hand what this disease does to a person, and he just couldn’t live with himself if he hurt Mickey as much as Monica had hurt all of them.  He had already hurt Mickey enough as it was.

Mickey deserved the old Ian, the young, carefree Ian who was happy and healthy, and could fuck all night in the dug outs if he wanted to.  Mickey didn’t sign up for all this shit when they got together, and even though Mickey probably wouldn’t see it right now, Ian was doing him a favor.  Ian did a lot of thinking on his hitchhiking journey back to Chicago, and he realized just how selfish he had always been where Mickey was concerned.  Mickey always looked out for him and took care of him, and now Ian wanted to do the same.  It would hurt like hell to lose him, and it would take Ian a long time to get over him, but Ian knew this was the best thing.  For once, Ian was going to be selfless and give Mickey the freedom to live his life.  His nursemaid days were finally going to be over.

With one last deep breath, Ian pressing his shaking finger to the call button and put the phone to his ear as it started to ring.

______________________________________________________________________________

Mickey jerked awake, gasping for breath as his heart beat pounded in his ears.  His head was throbbing painfully as he ran his tattooed fingers through his unkempt black hair. Although it was cold as fuck outside, he had sweated through his sheets, his body shivering from the dampness covering his skin. He had that nightmare again, the same one he’d had every night since Ian had been gone.  The one where Mickey found Ian outside in an alley, beaten to death.  It was always the same.  He was walking by, headed down the street somewhere, even though he never knew where since he never got there.  He looked over and saw that familiar shock of red hair, his body lying there, motionless.  Panic and fear gripped him by the throat as he ran as fast as he could to get a closer look.  His face was bruised and battered and there was blood pooled around his beautiful red hair.  He was wearing nothing but a green tank top and jeans.  Mickey leaned down and called his name, placing his hand on his cheek.  His skin was ice cold.  Mickey started screaming his name over and over and that’s the point where he would wake up the same way he’d done just now. He sat up in the bed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. It took him a few minutes to get his bearings. 

But it was also a reminder that he didn’t know where the redhead was.  He had taken off with his mom to fuck knows where.  He had called Ian over and over, with no answer.  Every possible scenario had run through his mind a million times, each one making him more anxious than the last. Where in the fuck was he? He could be anywhere by now, anywhere in Fucksville, USA.  Mickey didn’t know much about Ian’s mom, but he knew enough to know that the bitch was crazy as hell.  Even though she had bipolar like Ian did, she never had tried to manage it, from what Ian had told him. Ian had also told him all of the horror stories about her from his childhood.  Which didn’t do much to lessen his stress and worry.  Why in the fuck did he go with her if he knew how unstable she was? Well, if Mickey was being honest, Ian was just as unstable as she was right now.  He was taking his meds, but he hated the way they made him feel, which in turn scared Mickey shitless that he would stop taking them.  And he knew he didn’t have any with him right now which just piled up on top of all the other shit he was worried about. 

Deciding he didn’t have the will or the energy to get up right that moment, Mickey laid back down, turning on his side facing his nightstand, closing his eyes in a futile attempt at sleep.  He knew it was fucking useless.  He hadn’t slept probably three hours since they had all pulled up to that gate and found out Ian had been released to Monica.  Everybody had been shocked as shit.  Mickey was absolutely devastated.  He went from total elation at finding out Ian had been released to utter crippling fear of what would happen to him in the unstable hands of his mom. He started calling immediately, trying to will him with his mind each time to answer.  He called so many times he was sure his phone was going to go up in fucking flames or something from overuse.  Each time with the same result-nothing.  He left desperate voicemails.  But he didn’t care how much of a pussy he sounded like.  He wanted to know that Ian was okay and he was going to do whatever it took to find out. 

But, it had been three days and still no word.  Mickey was beside himself with worry.  He had smoked cigarette after cigarette half way then stubbed them out and lit another one. He had cried more than once over that ginger asshole.  He had never loved anyone like he loved Ian.  It was the greatest feeling to love someone like that and to have them love you back.  But times like this reminded Mickey why he had avoided feelings and emotions for so many years.  Well, one reason was because of his prick of a father who would pummel his ass to a pulp if he cried or showed any kind of emotion other than anger.  But then he would beat his ass for not getting angry enough.  But the other reason he avoided feelings like the plague was that they fucking hurt sometimes.  Now was one of those times.  But if anybody in this world was worth any amount of pain and hurt he had to endure, it was Ian. 

Mickey was creeping on the edge of sleep when he heard his phone buzz.  He didn’t remember setting his alarm clock.  What the fuck? He reached for his phone without looking, haphazardly knocking shit onto the floor, including the ashtray full of half smoked cigarettes.  Fuck it.  He still had his arm outstretched on the nightstand and turned the phone slowly sideways to look at the screen to turn the fucking alarm off.  Although it wasn’t the alarm.  It was Ian’s beanie clad head, his face smirking at him as his middle finger dominated most of the phone screen.  Mickey had never seen anything more beautiful.

He scrambled to sit up on the side of the bed, struggling to hit the accept button on his phone.  When he finally hit the button, the line was dead.  Fuck! He immediately hit the recall button and waited with baited breath while the phone rang.  And rang. And rang. No answer.  Fuck.  With shaking hands, Mickey tried Ian’s number once again. “Pick up, Ian. Fuck. Come on, come on. Please pick up.”

Finally, Ian answered. “Hey, Mick.”

Mickey’s body slumped with immediate relief at the sound of that voice.  He sighed heavily, a barrage

of questions running through his mind like a racecar speeding around a track, round and round in circles but going nowhere.  But of all the questions he wanted to ask Ian at that very moment, there was only one he wanted the answer to. “The fuck are you?”

“At my house.” Ian sounded so tired and weary. How long had he been at his house? Mickey was just there last night checking to see if anyone had heard anything. How did he get home? Where was Monica? Mickey decided to ask his questions when he saw him.  He just desperately needed to get to him, to see him, to touch him, to know that he was indeed okay and most of all, safe.

Mickey jumped up, searching frantically for his pants, his shoes, his jacket. “Stay the fuck right there, Ian.  Don’t go anywhere.  I’ll be there in five minutes.”

“Ok, Mick.”

Mickey ended the call, threw his phone on the bed as he struggled putting on his jeans and yelled a litany of curses when his limbs wouldn’t move as fast as he wanted them to.  But two minutes later, he was out the door and running down the sidewalk toward the Gallagher house.  

He ran and ran, as fast as his legs would carry him.  His lungs were burning from the combination of exertion and cold air, but he didn’t care.  He pumped his arms and legs until he was running at full speed.  It seemed like forever but he finally spotted that blue house and that goddamn red hair propped up against the railing of the front steps.  He was running so fast that he had to dig his feet in to stop himself when he finally reached Ian. His chest heaved as his breath punched out in bursts of smoke.  Ian looked over at him.  Mickey had to stare for a second to make sure it wasn’t a dream again.  Mickey’s breathing finally calmed down enough to where he could speak.

“The fuck you been?”

Ian turned to face him, still sitting down on the steps, his elbows propped up on his knees and his hands joined together out in front of him. “With my mom.”

  “You okay?”

“I hate the meds.  You gonna make me take them?”

Mickey took a couple tentative steps toward him, afraid that if he made any sudden movements, Ian would disappear again.  “I’m not gonna make you take them, but I think you need to.  We just have to find the right mix.  That’s what the fucking nurse said, right?”

“Yeah, I guess.  It just sucks because I can’t feel a fucking thing, Mick.” Ian placed his hand on the railing to pull himself up into a standing position.  “I want to _feel_ , you know? Something. Anything.” Ian ran his hand through his hair, looking down at the grass in front of the steps as the frost covered blades glistened in the sun.  “You remember when I came home with my hand all fucked up?”

“Yeah, I remember,” Mickey answered quietly.

Ian sniffed and laughed sadly as the tears formed in the corners of his eyes. “I did it at work. I put my fucking hand on the grill, just to see if I could feel it.  I wanted to feel something, even if it was pain. How fucked up is that?” Mickey didn’t answer, just waited for Ian to continue as he looked off into the distance. “I mean, hell, I couldn’t even get my dick up for you to suck me off.” 

“Ian, I told you that shit didn’t matter……..”

“But it matters to me, Mick!” Ian’s voice carried throughout the stillness in the air. Mickey put his hands up in surrender. The last thing he wanted to do was to make Ian more frustrated than he already was. And Ian was finally talking shit out, which was good.  Mickey didn’t want to do anything to fuck that up. But that shit didn’t matter to him, honestly.  He just wanted Ian to take his meds and be stabilized. He didn’t care about anything else.

 But as he thought about it from Ian’s perspective, he realized that he had absolutely no idea what Ian was going through.  What he must be feeling. Mickey had always been good at fixing things, coming up with clever ways to remedy any problem that arose, big or small.  His brothers and sister had always depended on his ingenuity.  Living on the South Side made it almost a god damn prerequisite. But mental illness was a totally different animal entirely. 

Mickey had spent so much time trying to figure out how to fix it, how to make Ian better that he didn’t even consider what he was going through, what all was going on in his mind.  How scared and helpless he must feel.

Mickey thought the meds would help him, and they did, but they brought with them a whole new set of problems. They weren’t a quick fix, but they would figure it out together.  Standing here with him now made him more sure of that than ever. If only he could convince Ian of that.

 Ian slowly came down the steps toward Mickey, looking him straight in the eye.  “I left with Monica because I thought she would understand how I felt, you know? She was the only one who had been through what I was going through.  I wanted to just be with someone who got it. But man, was that a shit show.  She’s dealing fucking meth that her teenage boyfriend cooks.” Ian watched Mickey’s eyebrows rise up.

“Really? Fuck, Ian.”

“Yeah,” Ian nodded.  “Fun, huh?” Ian put his hands in his pockets, nervous about the next words he was going to say. “I don’t want to put you through that. I don’t want you to have to sit around worrying, watching me, waiting on me to do my next crazy shit.”

  “I love you,” Mickey said emphatically, with everything he had in him.

 Ian could feel that all the way to his bones.  It made him hate himself even more for what he was about to do, but he just kept telling himself that it was the right thing to do, no matter how hard it was. “I love you too, Mick.  I really do.  That’s how I know you don’t deserve this.  I know what Monica put us through.  I can’t do that to you.” Ian shook his head vehemently.

Panic rose up in Mickey’s chest with the realization of what Ian was saying.  No, no fucking way.   He reached out and grabbed Ian’s arms, shaking him. “You are not your mom, Ian. She never wanted to get better.  She never even fucking wanted to admit that she needed help at all.”

Ian broke out of Mickey’s hold on him and shook his head. “I denied my illness for a long time, too, Mick.  You know that. But I can’t deny it anymore.  It’s here and there’s nothing you can do about it.  You can’t change it.  You can’t fix me. Cause I’m not broken.  I don’t need to be fixed, okay? I’m me!”

Mickey furrowed his brows, taking in Ian’s sad, pained face.  “Fix you? I’ve never tried to fix you, Ian.  Hell, I was in denial just as much as you.” He stepped closer to Ian and placed his hands gingerly on his upper arms. “But now, we both know just what we’re dealing with here and we can face it together.” Ian just shook his head.

Mickey searched Ian’s face for any sign of relent.  He saw none, so he kept trying.  He would keep talking until Ian gave up this idea that he could ever be a burden to him. 

“Look at me, Ian.” Ian’s sad eyes seemed to roam the entire gray Chicago sky, like he was memorizing every dark cloud, every streak of color, anything to avoid looking at the man in front of him. Mickey could tell that Ian’s resolve was slipping just a little.  Mickey finally saw a chink in his armor, so he pressed on. “I don’t think you’re fucking broken, either. You have a disease.  It’s part of who you are.  And I love every part of you, Ian. Don’t you know that by now?”

He did know that. If Ian didn’t know anything else about this crazy ass world, the one thing he did know was that Mickey Milkovich loved him. There was absolutely no question about that.  Maybe Mickey was right. But he still couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being selfish in wanting Mickey in his life.    He still believed that Mickey deserved better than this.  But goddammit if it didn’t feel good to hear Mickey say those words, declaring that he wanted to fight this fight with him.  Fuck knows he’s the only one who has truly been there for him from the beginning through all this shit.

But he was still uncertain. “You really want to spend your life being a nurse to me?” Ian questioned. “And what if I run off again? It could happen, you know.”

Mickey sighed heavily. “First of all, we are going to get you back on your meds and get you regulated. Then, we’re going to find you a therapist.  I don’t care if I have to start up the moving truck scam again to pay for it.  We’re getting you a fucking therapist. We’ll deal with any of that other shit once we come to it.  If your meds get to where they aren’t working as good, we’ll go back to the clinic and start all over.  Whatever it fucking takes, man. That’s what we’re going to do.” Ian noticed a smile tug at the corner of Mickey’s lips. “And as far as being a fucking nurse to you, does that mean I get to give you spongebaths?” Mickey wiggled his eyebrows teasingly and they both broke out in boisterous laughter while wiping the tears from their eyes.

When Mickey finally stopped laughing, he suddenly saw a somber look appear on Ian’s face. He looked up into those shiny green eyes that looked like they held the weight of the world in them.  “What is it, Ian?” Mickey asked sincerely.

Ian looked down at the ground.  Mickey’s words had sounded so good floating into his ears but Ian still had that seed of doubt that planted itself right into his heart. He looked back up into worried eyes and timidly answered him. “I just want you to make sure that this is what you want.”

Mickey put his hands on either side of Ian’s neck and stared deeply into his eyes. “I want you, Ian. I want to be wherever you are. I’m not going anywhere.”

Ian sniffled and tried to hold back the tears that threatened to fall again. “I just don’t want you to give up your life for me, Mick.”

Mickey scoffed.  “What fucking life, Ian?  Going on runs with my brothers? Watching my asshole father get arrested over and over for breaking probation? Fuck that.  You are my life.  Without you, I don’t have anything.”

He reached for Mickey then, wrapping his long arms around Mickey’s shoulders, holding him tight against him, willing all the appreciation he had for this man to seep out of his pores and engulf him.  There was nothing Ian could do, nothing he could ever say that would let Mickey know just how much he loved him for loving him like he did.  “I love you so much, Mick.”

Ian felt Mickey smile against his shoulder. “I love you too, Ian.” After a few moments, they finally broke apart and stared at each other lovingly.  Mickey was the first to break the spell. “But the next time you run off, answer your fucking phone, you prick.”

Mickey punched Ian playfully in the arm.  “Ow! You dick,” Ian complained, rubbing the injured spot in circles with his hand.

“You are what you eat, right?” Mickey smirked.

“Shut the fuck up, dork,” Ian teased.

They were both laughing and smiled goofily at each other when suddenly, they heard a voice calling several feet away on the sidewalk.

“Mickey!” They both turned and looked in the direction the voice was coming from.

Mickey’s mouth went agape at the sight. “Holy shit,” he drawled out slowly.

 

Ian’s face scrunched as he tried to make out the figure walking toward them.  “Is that Sammi?”

“And she’s got a fucking gun,” Mickey groused. Sammi was walking toward them holding a pistol in her hand at her side.  


“Oh shit, Mick.  What the fuck is she doing? And why does she look like death warmed over?”  Sammi was much closer now, her hair in disarray and her clothes tattered and torn.  Her face and hands were dirty.  She looked like hell. 

Mickey paused, trying to decide what to do.  He was a sitting fucking duck right now, defenseless from a woman with a gun.  A crazy fucking bitch with a gun was more like it.  He then realized what Ian had said.  “Uh, I’ll have to explain later, Ian.  Get inside the house right now!” Mickey pointed at the front door.

“I’m not leaving you out here, Mick.  She’s got a fucking gun!”

“Goddamn it, Ian! Go inside NOW!”  Thank fuck Fiona and her best friend, Vee walked up right at that exact moment.  “Take him with you and you all go inside right fucking now!”  Sammi was painfully close now, and Mickey just wanted them to get the fuck in the house.

Fiona peered around Mickey.  “Is that Sammi? With a gun??”

“Move and ask fucking questions later!” Mickey barked. 

Both women started screaming a stream of “Oh my God!” as they pushed Ian inside, who fought them the whole way, not wanting to leave Mickey alone. They finally got him inside the house and followed him in and slammed the door.

When he was satisfied that everybody was safely inside, off he ran with Sammi on his heels. Sammi was now pointing the gun at him as she started to run after him.  “I’m gonna fucking kill you!”

A gunshot rang out, but luckily she was a lousy shot and missed.  “Fuck you!” Mickey screamed.

Another gunshot. More running. “You are going to get fucked!” Sammi shouted.

“Fuck you and your weird ass kid!”

Another gunshot.  He ran as fast as he could, and thankfully Sammi couldn’t keep up with him.  They heard the sirens in the distance.  Mickey had never been so relieved to hear that sound in his life.  He started running toward it.  Two police cars screeched to a halt on the road as four cops ran up.  In all the commotion, Mickey still saw the front door of the Gallagher house swing open and Ian running down the front steps toward them.  Fuck.

Two of the cops had secured Sammi’s weapon and were putting her in handcuffs while she steadily cursed at Mickey.  He gave it right back to her.  The two other cops were handcuffing Mickey and saying, “You are being arrested on the charge of attempted murder”, along with the rest of his Miranda rights.  Ian ran up and suddenly started screaming at them.

“What the fuck are you doing? He didn’t do anything.  SHE was shooting at HIM! She tried to kill him! You’ve got three fucking witnesses right here!”  He pointed at himself and their house, where Fiona and Vee were watching from the living room window, panic on their faces at Ian’s outburst.

One of the cops spoke up.  “Sir, we are going to have to ask you to calm down, or we will be forced to take you in as well.  Step back.”  The middle aged cop’s voice was low but effective.  Ian stepped back and watched helplessly as they pushed Mickey’s head down and placed him in the back of the police car.  He assumed Sammi was in the other one but he didn’t really care about that bitch.

Ian ran up to the back window of the police car.  Mickey could hear Ian’s muffled voice as he screamed, his hands on the glass. He looked up into Ian’s panic stricken face, his green eyes shining with fear.  “Don’t worry, Mick.  I’ll get you out of this! I’ll take care of it.  I got you!” He desperately tried to linger on Mickey’s face as long as possible. He mouth the words _I love you_ to Mickey and the other man mouthed back, _I love you too._ Ian tried to run along with the car, but it sped off and he could no longer keep up with it.  He watched hopelessly as the blue lights disappeared out of sight, along with the love of his life.

“FUCK!” Ian screamed at the top of his lungs, not caring who heard him.  He put his hands on his knees and dropped his head down, trying to catch his breath as his chest heaved with the effort. Fiona and Vee came running out to check on him.

“Ian, are you okay?” Fiona asked tentatively.

He turned on her.  “Do I fucking look like I’m okay?” he responded viciously.

“What the fuck happened?” Vee asked.

“I don’t fucking know.  The cop said something about attempted murder.  But Sammi was shooting at HIM! How in the hell did he attempt to murder her ass?” Ian asked incredulously.

“Come on, let’s go inside, Ian.  It’s cold out here,” Fiona coaxed as she put her arm around his shoulder. “And you can tell me what the hell happened with Monica.”

“I’ve got to get down to the precinct.  Straighten this shit out.” Ian’s hands were shaking even more now, causing a look of worry to cross Fiona’s face as she noticed them.

“We will, okay? Let’s go inside and calm down for a minute before you do something you’ll regret and get your own ass thrown in jail.”

Ian nodded as they all walked in the house together.  Debbie had come home some time during all the commotion.

“Hey, Debs,” Fiona greeted.

“Hey.  What’s going on? I heard the cops driving away as I came in the house.”

Ian answered. “Sammi came up trying to shoot Mickey and the cops showed up and arrested both of them, but told Mickey he was being arrested for attempted murder.  I don’t know what the fuck’s going on, but I’m damn sure fixing to find out.” Ian paced back and forth in the small living room.  He noticed out of the corner of his eye that Debbie looked panicked and her mouth was now wide open.

“Oh, shit,” Debbie exclaimed.

“What?” Everybody asked simultaneously.

“I think I know why Mickey got arrested for attempted murder,” Debbie said tentatively.

Debbie’s eyes darted around the room, trying to avoid the three pairs of eyes that were staring her down now, waiting for an explanation.

 


	2. I Want To Feel You By My Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian goes to visit Mickey in prison.

“What do you mean you know why Mickey got arrested?” Fiona asked imploringly, her voice laced with concern as Ian and Vee looked on. “Come, sit down and tell us what happened.”

 Debbie sat down in the chair closest to the kitchen as the other three sat on the couch with Fiona sitting closest to her, her hand on Debbie’s knee, encouraging her to continue.

“Um, well,” Debbie began uncertainly, her fingers tapping on her bottom lip as she seemed to consider her next words.  “Mickey came in my room the other night, you know, the night before we found out you left with Monica,” Debbie said, pointing at Ian.  “I told him I had a plan to get rid of Sammi but he told me he’d already taken care of it.  I asked him what he was talking about and he told me he gave her some roofies and that she was passed out in the living room. So we came down, picked her up, and carried her outside and put her in the moving crate.”

Once the three on the couch were over the shock of what Debbie had just told them, they all started yelling at once.

“Are you fucking kidding me, right now, Debbie?” Ian exclaimed.

“What in the actual fuck, Debs?” Fiona yelled.

“Debbie! Seriously??” Vee asked.

“What? She called the fucking MPs on Ian.  She got what was coming to her!” Debbie defended.

Fiona stood up and started pacing, running her hands through her hair in exasperation.  “I cannot fucking believe this.”

“Fi, let’s all just calm down, okay?” Vee said, standing to face a still pacing Fiona.  “I mean, we’re the only ones who know right? It’s not like Mickey’s going to tell the cops about Debbie.”

Fiona stopped pacing abruptly and turned to face Vee, her worried expression melting into anger. “Oh, that bastard better not even think about mentioning Debbie’s name.  I’ll fuck him up, I swear. She is a fucking kid!”

Debbie shot up at that, almost knocking the chair over in the process. “I am not a fucking kid, Fiona! I’m having a baby for God’s sakes!”

“Hey!” Ian yelled, jumping up from the couch. “Shut the fuck up about Mickey, Fiona.  I…..wait.” Ian turned to face Debbie.  “What did you just say?” Ian was hoping like hell he’d heard her wrong.

Debbie looked sheepishly at her brother. “I’m having a baby.”

Before Ian could process what Debbie had just told him, Fiona pointed at her and said, “No you’re not.  You’re getting an abortion.”

That caused a whole plethora of angry shouts from the siblings to bounce around the room, with nothing being heard. The yelling continued for another couple minutes until Vee had finally had enough.

“HEY!” Vee yelled, putting her hands up in an attempt to stop things from escalating even further. The shouting finally abated. “Let’s deal with one thing at a time, okay? Right now, we need to focus on how to get Mickey out of jail.”

Ian heard Fiona scoff bitterly as he made his way over to his little sister to give her a hug.  He didn’t know what to think about Debbie being pregnant.  He was shocked, to say the least.  Who in the hell was the father? He had a lot of damn questions, but he resolved to find out all of that shit later.  Vee was right, he needed to focus on getting Mickey out of jail.

Ian wrapped his sister up in his arms, suddenly feeling overly protective of her.  She smiled into his chest and wrapped her arms around his middle. He pulled away from her a few moments later, winking down at her before releasing her and returning his attention back to his older, much more hostile, sister.

“I mean, come the fuck on, Fiona.  Do you really think he’d tell anybody that Debbie was involved? She didn’t really do anything anyway. Besides, he’s not a fucking snitch,” Ian sneered.

Fiona huffed out an angry breath. “Are you seriously standing there right now, defending him? He got Debbie involved in his bullshit after I told him over and over not to do anything about Sammi. As far as I’m concerned, he is exactly where he belongs!”

Ian clenched his fists at his sides as his skin prickled with anger and heat rose up from his neck and settled in his cheeks, making him feel like they were on fire.  “How DARE you say that, Fiona. Your ass would still be sitting in jail if it wasn’t for your rich ex-boyfriend bailing you out after you slept with his brother!”

Vee and Debbie both gasped at that, neither one able to believe that Ian had just said that about his sister. They watched on in silent shock as the heated exchange continued.

Fiona stared down her brother defiantly, her hands on her hips. “Oh, that’s fucking rich, Ian. Bringing up old shit because I said something about your precious boyfriend? Come the fuck on.”

“At least he called me. Was worried about me. What were you doing, Fiona?” Ian scoffed angrily.  “Where were you when I was going through all this shit? Oh yeah, that’s right, you were too busy cheating on your husband with your ex-boyfriend!”

“How did you even know about…….” Fiona stopped and put her hands up in front of her.  “You know what? I’m not even going to do with is with you, Ian.”

“Because you know I’m right!”

“All I’m going to say is, you want to get that damn thug out of jail, fine, but I don’t want anything to do with it. Don’t ask me for anything!”

“I wouldn’t ask you for a goddamn thing, Fiona!”

“Good!” Fiona barked with finality as she turned and ran up the stairs to her room.

Ian turned quickly on his heel and ran to the front door, slamming it loudly behind him, leaving a shell-shocked Vee and Debbie sitting silently in the living room.

______________________________________________________________

He walked briskly down the sidewalk toward the El, his breath coming out in big puffs as it collided with the cold, crisp air and his heart hammering in his chest. He had been walking around the neighborhood for several hours, trying to sort through his thoughts. His brain felt like a pinball machine with the ball zig zagging back and forth, trying to process everything that had just happened. Mickey gave Sammi roofies.  That explained the attempted murder charge.  But Ian knew Mickey wasn’t trying to kill her.  Mickey was a lot of things but he wasn’t a murderer. Why did Debbie get involved in that shit? Ian also knew that Mickey would never even think to give her name and fuck Fiona for thinking any different.

Ian’s mind went to Debbie.  He still couldn’t believe Debbie was pregnant. What the actual fuck? His protective brother instincts kicked in and made him want to go find the fucker who did this to her and kick his ass.  What the hell was she going to do about school? If Fiona had anything to say about it, Debbie was going to get an abortion.

Fucking Fiona.  Ian had always known that Fiona looked down on all of the Milkoviches, especially Mickey, but to actually hear her say those words about him made his blood boil.  Mickey was there for him, took care of him, when nobody else could be bothered.  He knew that his family had lived with this disease their whole lives, but that was all the more reason Ian thought they would be much more involved than they were.  Mickey took on this battle head on without a second thought.  As far as Ian was concerned, Fiona could fuck right off. 

Ian made it to the El and stepped on the platform and entered the train, sitting down in the nearest empty seat and sighing heavily.  Ian took this time to reflect on their time together and all the shit they had been through.  No one ever understood or even tried to understand their relationship.  It may not have made sense to a lot of people, but it made sense to them.  They made sense even when nothing else did.

Maybe it was that nobody else saw the real Mickey.  He didn’t let that part of him show with anyone.  He never let his guard down and let that South Side thug façade wane even a little bit. Only when he was with Ian did he show that other side of himself.  The side that Ian loved so much.  Ian loved the badass Milkovich in him.  That’s what drew Ian to Mickey in the first place.  He was so different from anyone Ian had ever met, so tough, so hardcore.  But when Mickey finally let those walls come down, he revealed a whole new side of himself that Ian never knew he had.  A side that made Ian fall hopelessly in love.  He only thought he was in love before then.  Nothing compared to the love Ian had for him when he was free to truly be himself and show unabashed what a wonderful person he truly was.

   Nobody knew how tender and loving he could be and how much he took care of Ian.  They weren’t there when Mickey held him when he’d wake up in a cold sweat because the demons in his head were in full attack mode and nothing could shut them off.  Nothing but Mickey’s gentle touch and his reassuring whispers in the dark.  Nobody saw when Mickey would bring Ian his meds every day and made sure he ate enough to not get sick from the side effects.

Even before Ian got sick, Mickey was always there, taking care of him one way or the other.  Ian never did stop to think how much he actually did for him until now.  Ian realized just how selfish he had been.  Even in the bedroom, even though their sex life had always been healthy and utterly fantastic, there were things that Mickey had wanted to try that Ian didn’t.  But Mickey went along with it without complaints.  Mickey for sure wasn’t perfect, but Ian had come to the realization that Mickey was perfect for him. 

As the train slowed down and made its way to his stop to go to the police station, Ian leaped out of his seat, making the old woman sitting in the sit across from him jump in shock at his sudden movement.  He was going to get Mickey the best lawyer money could buy and get him back home where he belonged.  With him.

____________________________________________________________________________

Ian sat staring at the dirty glass in front of him, wringing his hands nervously as he waited for Mickey to walk in, his right knee bouncing uncontrollably. He watched as prisoner after prisoner came in slowly and sat down across from their loved ones and talked happily with them. Finally, Ian saw that familiar black hair and that confident swagger, even if it was subdued somewhat for now.  He still looked damn good.  He was wearing an orange jumpsuit and a permanent scowl. As he made his way to where Ian was, their eyes finally met.  Mickey let his scowl slip for just a moment before quickly putting it back in place. Ian’s stomach was doing somersaults and beads of sweat were forming on his head as he followed Mickey, never taking his off of him.  Ian noticed the corner of Mickey’s mouth turn up in a satisfied smirk and it made Ian’s heart feel like it was going to burst out of his chest. 

A few seconds later that felt like hours, Mickey was standing in front of Ian on the other side of the glass.  He spread his legs and sat down with a thud on the seat underneath him.  Their eyes locked and it was like there was no one else in the room, the other prisoners and their loved ones forgotten. The air became thick and Ian struggled to breathe, his lungs feeling like they weren’t able to get enough air.  Mickey’s piercing blue eyes seemed to burn a hole right through Ian as if he could see right through him. Mickey always could see right through him and knew him better than he knew himself.

Mickey remained still, his arms folded on top of one another in front of him.  The corners of his lips were turned upward slightly as his eyes raked over the part of Ian’s body Mickey could see.  They reached for their receivers at the same time and Ian felt instant relief at just the sound of Mickey’s breath on the other end of the phone.

 “Hey, Mick.”

“Hey.  Thanks for coming.” Suddenly, the angry scowl completely disappeared and Mickey smiled that beautiful wide smile that Ian would sell his soul for.

“How’s it going in there?” Ian asked.

“Well, it ain’t no juvie and we ain’t talking about no Snickers bar this time,” Mickey chuckled lightly to himself, but Ian could see the slight fear in his eyes. 

“Are you okay? Debbie told us what happened.” Mickey’s eyes darted around nervously seeing if anybody was in earshot. Mickey widened his eyes and raised his eyebrows, silently asking Ian to shut the fuck up. “Sorry,” Ian said quietly.

“How are you holding up?” Mickey asked.

That was just like Mickey.  He’s the one sitting in jail for attempted murder for fuck knows how long and he’s asking Ian how he was.  This man was unbelievable.  “I’m fine, Mick. Just worried about you is all.”

“It hasn’t been that long, Gallagher.  You missing me already?”  Mickey winked at Ian and made his heart swell along with his dick.  Mickey had never winked at him before, and it was hot as hell.  Of course, his dick would decide to work now.

“Fuck yeah, I am. You missing me?”

“Oh yeah,” Mickey replied with a sultry tone.

Their eyes met in a heated stare as both their breaths sped up through the receiver.  Ian didn’t mean to turn this visit into an eye fucking fest but that’s exactly what was happening at the moment.

 They stared silently at each other for a few moments before Ian broke the sexual spell they were both under. “Do you know when your hearing is?” Ian asked as he cleared his throat.

“I’ll get transferred to Beckman tomorrow and then my hearing will be the day after that.”

Ian nodded. “Okay, good. So how does this work? What happens after that?”

“Well, the public defender douchebag is supposed to meet with me to tell me all that shit. I don’t really know, man.” Ian saw the questions in Mickey’s eyes and Ian hated that he couldn’t do anything.

Ian suddenly thought of something and the anger in him built up so much, he had to tamp it down carefully. “Where did they take Sammi?”

“Who cares about that fucking hosebag?” Mickey snarled.

Ian had a reason for asking, but he didn’t want to get into it with Mickey now.  He had enough shit to worry about. “You’re right, sorry.”

“Have you taken your meds since you’ve been home, Ian?” Mickey asked suddenly.

Fuck.  Ian forgot with everything that had happened.  “Um, no.” Ian saw Mickey start to say something, but he interrupted him before Mickey could scold him. “But I will when I get home. Don’t worry about me, okay?”

Mickey sighed softly and tilted his head slightly. “I’ll always worry about you, Ian.” Mickey raised his right hand and pressed it firmly against the glass.  Ian noticed the mood between them changed suddenly and Mickey began to blink rapidly and his eyes and nose were turning red as tears welled up and finally spilled over and ran down his cheeks. “Always.”

Ian raised his left hand and pressed it to the glass where Mickey’s hand was. Ian was crying openly now, his tears streaming down his face. They stayed like that for several minutes, just watching each other, their tears dropping onto their arms and running down onto the metal table beneath them. It seemed like Ian could almost feel the heat from Mickey’s skin, that familiar heat that was such a comfort to him on many cold, scary nights when his mind was “jumbled up” as he liked to call it. 

Mickey finally took his hand off the glass and put it back where it was before, resting on his arm. Ian kept his hand there for a few more moments and then finally did the same. “Hey, you didn’t tell me to take my hand off the glass this time.”

They both laughed at the memory.  How far they had come since that day Ian visited Mickey in juvie.  “Fucking sap,” Mickey teased.

Ian smiled briefly, then began to tell Mickey the real reason he was here, his face serious and determined. “I’m going to get you out of here, Mick.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Gallagher?” Mickey’s eyes started darting around again, looking for prying eyes and ears. There were plenty of them in this place.

Ian loved hearing Mickey call him _Gallagher_.  It took him back to a simpler time, when their lives weren’t so complicated and fucked up. When they were just stupid South Side kids with nothing to lose.  You couldn’t lose nothing if you didn’t have anything. Ian tried to follow Mickey’s nervous eyes and realized instantly what he must have thought Ian meant. “Not that, Mickey.  Shit. You really think I’d try to break you out of prison?”

“Would you shut the fuck up with that shit? Jesus, Ian.”

“What I mean is, Ian said emphatically,”I’m going to get you the best lawyer money can buy.”

“Oh, really? And where do you plan on getting the money for that, Capone?”

“You don’t worry about that.  Let me handle it,” Ian placated.

“Ian, don’t do anything stupid.  You’ll end up in here with me,” Mickey pleaded.

“Give me a fucking break will you? You just keep your cool,” Ian smiled brightly at him, but Mickey still had that worried look on his face.  “Don’t’ worry. Everything will be okay.”

“You know I can use that public defender, right? You don’t have to try to get me any candy ass lawyer who’s going to charge a thousand dollars an hour every time he answers the fucking phone.”

“Please, Mickey.  Just let me do this. It’s the least I can do.”

“Not if it’s going to get you in fucking trouble, Ian!”

“I’m not going to get into trouble. Would you relax?” Ian said, putting up his hand to try to stop Mickey’s tirade. “You just worry about staying out of trouble in here.”

Just then the buzzer sounded, letting them know their time was up. Ian cursed under his breath while Mickey smiled sadly.  Time was never on their side and now it was taunting them even more than ever.

“I love you, Mick.” Ian held the phone to his ear, waiting for Mickey’s reply.

Finally, he responded. “I love you too, Ian.” He nodded as his knuckle rubbed against his nose, trying to stave off his emotion.

Seeing that made Ian’s heart swell with love.  He reluctantly lowered the receiver from his ear and placed it on his lips as he watched Mickey slowly hang up his phone, not wanting to hear the final click of the phone as it was hung on the wall. Reluctantly, Ian hung up his phone too as a guard came to collect Mickey. Their eyes were locked on each other, and Ian could see the love there and hoped Mickey could see his. With one last glorious smile aimed right at Ian and only for Ian, Mickey plastered the angry scowl back on his face suddenly as he turned to follow the guard out of the room.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	3. I'll Sacrifice Tomorrow, Just To Have You Here Today

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian comes up with a plan to get Mickey out of prison.

Ian walked slowly down the sidewalk toward Kev and Vee’s house, his eyelids feeling like lead, as his body shook either from the cold weather or pure exhaustion, he wasn’t sure which.  Ian was still feeling a little off, like his mind was cloudy or “jumbled up” still, as he called it. But he had started his meds back this morning and hopefully, they would begin to work soon. Ian wasn’t looking forward to the side effects, in fact, they fucking sucked.  But he was going to push through it.  The only thing that scared him was that right now, he didn’t have Mickey’s help.

 Ian found it hard to believe now that he had actually planned on breaking up with Mickey until their talk yesterday, when all he could think of now was how he was going to make it without him.  No one else would look after him like Mickey did, so it was up to him to take care of everything for now, and that scared the shit out of him.

And what scared him even more was, he didn’t know how long he would have to do it.  How long would Mickey be locked up? Ian didn’t know much about how everything worked, having only been involved in petty crimes and bullshit charges.  This was some serious shit they were in here. He knew Mickey was going to need bail money, but the question was how much? Ian had no fucking idea.  He would just have to wait until Mickey had his court hearing. And in the meantime, Ian would work on getting Mickey a kick ass attorney. He didn’t know how quite yet, but he had some ideas.  He just hoped that at least one of those ideas panned out.

Ian had been up almost the whole night tossing and turning, his mind a constant hamster wheel, just spinning around and around.  He thought about a lot of things, all of them having to do with Mickey.  He started thinking back to when they were younger and even though their lives were never simple, things weren’t nearly as complicated back then.  Ian remembered the way Mickey used to steal glances at him at the Kash and Grab where they worked, driving Ian absolutely fucking crazy until he couldn’t take it anymore and he would lock up so they could go fuck in the cooler.

He remembered the hot, summer nights they spent down at the baseball fields, hanging out in the dugouts, talking, laughing, fucking. Those were some of the best memories of his entire life. No one around but them, alone together.  Mickey seemed to be his happiest during these times, at least that’s how it seemed to Ian because there was a light in Mickey’s eyes that wasn’t there any other time and that tension seemed to float right out of his body.  That fear that always gripped him tightly by the throat released him for just a little while and let him breathe.  And it was amazing.  Mickey was amazing to be around when he was like that. That’s the Mickey that no one else saw.  Ian’s Mickey.

Things stayed like that, with Mickey living in fear of his feelings for Ian and how those feelings would possibly get him killed if his dad ever found out, until a couple years later when Mickey finally came out. After he did, everything changed and he became like the poster child for the perfect boyfriend and it scared Ian a little, especially when he got sick.  Mickey was there for him, every step of the way, and at the time, Ian was going through so much and trying to understand what was happening to him, and all he wanted was for things to go back to the way they were, which included wanting the old Mickey back.  The crass, bad ass South Side trash that Ian had fallen for all those years ago.  His whole world had been turned upside down with this disease, and everything was different, and all he wanted was for something to remain unchanged.

He hated to admit it, but he started to resent Mickey.  Mickey had done what he was most afraid of in this world-come out in front of his asshole dad and other family and friends. Ian was so proud of him at the time.  But no sooner had Mickey had his newfound freedom, Ian was imprisoned by his mind with no hope of release. He felt so many things during that time.  Hopeless, scared, angry.  It just wasn’t fair that this was happening to him at a time when he and Mickey were supposed to be happy.  They could finally live their lives together without any fear.

So, Ian lashed out at the one person who was there for him through every damn thing.  Mickey reacted angrily which Ian could understand.  Everything was just so fucked up.  Ian had hurt Mickey so much with how he had acted that Ian felt sure that he deserved better.  But for some goddamn reason, Mickey still wanted to be with him.  Ian still couldn’t understand why, considering everything he had put Mickey through. 

This time, Mickey needed Ian’s help, and Ian was going to see to it that he got it.  Fuck knows he had done enough for Ian. He knew from their conversation at the jail that Mickey wasn’t too thrilled with the idea of Ian helping him, but it’s about time Ian started showing Mickey how much he cared about him. So, Ian came up with a plan during his sleeplessness, but for this plan to work, he was going to need some help.

Kev and Vee’s house was Ian’s first stop.  The plan he had wasn’t going to work at all without their help, so he decided to start there first.  Kev and Vee had always been friends of the family, but he wasn’t sure they would be so willing to help Mickey. He did steal money out of the register when he and Kev had the rub and tug business, and Ian didn’t think Vee knew Mickey at all that much, but she did say something at their house about finding a way to help Mickey, so that was a plus.  So he knew she was willing to help, he just didn’t know is she or Kev would be open to what Ian had in mind.

Ian finally made it to their house and was standing at the door when he heard some voices. “Oh, fuck! Right there, Kev! Oh, baby. That feels so good!”

Just fucking great.  They were fucking like bunny rabbits.  Oh well.  Ian had a plan and he had to stick to it and he wasn’t going to let anything stand in his way.  He started banging loudly on the door when the realization hit him that it probably wasn’t such a good idea to piss off the people you were needing a favor from before you even asked for the favor. That realization came just a few seconds too late when he heard loud footsteps descending the stairs and coming toward the front door.

“I’m going to fucking kill whoever is on the other side of that door! I swear!”

Oh shit. Not good.  Not good at all. Ian heard a squeak that sounded like a baby toy and a loud  “Fuck!”come through the door, which meant that whatever toy it was, Kev probably stepped on it and was now even more pissed off than he was ten seconds ago.  Great.

The front door swung open and almost off its hinges as Kev fixed him with a deadly stare right after he rolled his eyes at his unwanted visitor.  “Fucking Gallaghers…..”

“Hey, Kev!” Ian tried for cheeriness but judging by Kev’s expression, it wasn’t working very well.

“Hey, Ian. Glad to have you back.” Kev smiled, which Ian took as a good sign.

“Thanks, Kev.” Ian grinned hopefully, returning Kev’s bright smile.

But the smile quickly morphed into a deep frown. “Now, what the fuck do you want?”

Kev’s tone had Ian shuffling his feet nervously and stumbling for words.  Suddenly, the whole speech he had planned for when he got here completely left his head.  “Um….I….”

Kev, in his multi colored robe and slippers, started doing the rolling motion with his arm. “Could you hurry this along, Gallagher? I have an angry, horny black woman upstairs who is going to have my balls if I don’t get back up there, so spit it out or get the fuck out of here.”

Suddenly, there were more footsteps coming down the stairs and moving toward them.  Vee appeared in a turquoise and black silk nightgown and matching fuzzy high heeled slippers. “Kev, what the fuck…..oh, hey Ian,” Vee greeted.

Ian was actually relieved that Vee showed up when she did.  He figured this would probably go a lot smoother with her here.  And she would be more willing to help and could talk Kev into it if Kev didn’t want to do it, at least that’s what Ian was hoping for.  “Hey, Vee!” He tried for cheeriness again, which seemed to work on her.

“What’s up?” Vee asked as she tightened her robe around herself and folded her arms in front of her. Kev was still looking at him expectantly, but his look had softened somewhat with Vee’s presence.

Ian finally was able to find his voice to make his request. “Ok, well first of all, Vee, did you tell Kev about what happened to Mickey?”

They both nodded. “Yes, I did. That Sammi’s a fucking crazy bitch,” Vee said with venom.

“Wait, who’s Sammi again?” Kev asked.

Vee scoffed, clearly frustrated. “Kev! You know who she is! Frank’s daughter, their half-sister, remember?”

“Oh yeah, yeah, yeah. Now I remember.” Vee rolled her eyes at her husband.

Ian just continued on.  “Well, I am working on getting him an attorney to represent him, which you know will cost money.  I’m also trying to get his bail money up.  His hearing is not until tomorrow, so I don’t know how much it will be yet. I’m sure he won’t be denied bail, but I don’t know what the amount will be. What I wanted to ask of you guys is,” Ian paused to take a deep breath, “New Year’s Eve is coming up, and I thought it would be a good idea if we threw a party to raise the money for Mickey’s attorney and his bail. What do you think?”

Kev sighed heavily. “No, Ian.  We can’t afford to lose a night of business because you want to throw a party,”Kev explained.

“But it’s not just any party, Kev.  And you’ve done it before, remember? We can sell all kinds of things, do some raffles…..”

“We didn’t own the bar back then, Ian.  It was Stan’s bar and business was a hell of a lot better back then,” Kev reasoned. “And in case you haven’t noticed, we are going through a procession right now.”

Ian and Vee both exchanged confused looks until a note of recognition passed over Vee’s face. “It’s recession, babe. Not procession,” she corrected.

“Well, which ever one means we’re all broke as fuck.”

Ian frowned but nodded his head. He looked at Vee with a pitiful desperation.  She returned his look with sympathy in her eyes, then fixed them on her husband. “Kev, we should be able to do this.  We just need to come up with a plan.”

“But, baby, we are not damn a charity bar,” Kev groused, sighing in frustration.

“It’s for a good cause, Kev.  It’s for Mickey.  Mickey is Ian’s boyfriend, so he’s like family,” Vee said unsurely but Ian was thankful for her effort. It was a hell of a lot more than Fiona would ever say.  Ian pushed thoughts of his sister to the back of his mind.  He had too much to take care of to think about her and her shitty attitude toward his boyfriend.

Kev rolled his eyes and glanced over at his wife.  He huffed out a breath as she stuck her bottom lip out in a pout that indicated to Ian that this was definitely not the first time she’d used this tactic to win over her husband.  And thankfully, it worked again because Kev finally relented.

“Okay, Gallagher.  Look, you can have your party.  We will work out the details later. But just so it is clear, you are responsible for everything.  We are just providing the bar.  That’s it! Got it?”  

Ian jumped up and down and all but kissed Kev on the cheek, sleepiness forgotten.  “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! I promise I will take care of everything!” Ian exclaimed excitedly.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah…..get the fuck out of here so I can fuck my wife before the babies wake up.”

On that note, Ian wasted no time in doing just that. “You got it! Thanks, you guys,” Ian called as he left.  Vee waved at Ian as he turned around and headed down the front steps with a new bounce in his step that he definitely didn’t have when he came up those same steps.  His plan was coming together so far and he was so excited he could hardly stand it.  Now onto the next part of his plan. Just as he reached the sidewalk, he heard the front door of their house slam and two babies’ cries filtering out through the second floor windows and onto the street.

“Fucking Gallaghers!!!” Ian heard Kev shout loudly.

Before Kev had a chance to come after Ian and take back their offer, he broke into a run to avoid the wrath of the angry, horny white man.

________________________________________________________________________________

            Ian bounded up the steps of the Milkovich house, the place he called home for a couple years when he and Mickey lived there together with his brothers and Mandy.  The old dresser was still sitting right where it was the last time he was here, piled high with junk, old beer bottles, and cigarette butts. It was oddly comforting, even though to most people, the last thing they would think of when they looked at this house would be comfort. The old, worn wooden boards beneath his feet gave way and creaked as he stepped up to knock on the front door.  He heard a TV blaring and people yelling to be heard over the loud TV.  Funnily enough, that was oddly comforting as well.

Tentatively, Ian wrapped his knuckles a few times against the thick, wooden door with its chipped paint and randomly placed holes that looked, not surprisingly, to be the same size as a bullet.  He heard the TV immediately stop blaring its raucous noise and the faint noise of two separate guns cocking.  Ian gulped down the large lump that suddenly formed in his throat.  Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. 

Before Ian could contemplate his bad idea any further, the door swung open, creaking loudly.  Iggy Milkovich stood before him, hand behind his back which no doubt held some type of revolver, and cigarette dangling from his busted lips. He grunted as he glanced past Ian to scan the street for whatever danger he thought might be lurking there, then brought his attention back to Ian.  He looked him up and down in annoyance. “Mickey ain’t here.”

The front door was quickly shoved back into Ian’s face until he shot out a hand to stop it. Iggy’s retreating figure turned back around to stare at Ian menacingly.  “I know Mickey’s not here,” Ian said firmly.

Iggy turned then and walked back into the living room, leaving the front door wide open this time, Ian taking it as an invitation to come in.  That’s about all the invitation you were going to get from a Milkovich.  You’re lucky to even get that. Ian followed Iggy into the house, and noticed as he gave the clear signal to the other person in the room who Ian now recognized as Sully, Mickey’s cousin. He was sitting on the couch, a joint in one hand, and a pistol in the other. Sully threw the gun down on the worn out coffee table that was littered with ashes, old magazines and pizza boxes. “Oh, hey, Ian,” Sully spoke friendly enough as he blew a plume of smoke out of his mouth and watched it float through the air above him.

“Hey, Sully.” Ian gave him a little wave. Ian had always liked Sully, even though he never saw too much of him around.  But he knew enough about him to know that he was just as badass a Milkovich as any of the other ones. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

Sully took a deep breath in, letting the sweet smoke burn his lungs, then rested his elbows on his knees.  “Yeah, I’ve been around. Since Terry got thrown back in, I’ve kinda stepped in to help with things, you know?”

Yeah, Ian knew exactly what Sully meant.  He remembered the night Mickey came out and the fight that ensued afterward.  Mickey’s dad tried to beat the shit out of him, but Ian stepped in and beat his ass along with Mickey and then Terry was locked up once again for violating probation. Good fucking riddance.

Ian nodded at Sully, as Iggy came back from the kitchen with two beers, handing one to Ian. “Thanks,” Ian said as he took the proffered beer.

“So, what the fuck you want, Gallagher?” Iggy asked without malice in his voice.

“Do you have any idea where Mickey is?”

“Don’t have a fucking clue,” Iggy answered with disinterest as he took a big swig of his beer and wiped his mouth sloppily with the back of his hand.

“Isn’t he living with you?”  Ian hadn’t seen Sully in a while, so he was assuming he was filled in on Mickey’s whereabouts while he was living with Ian.  “He doesn’t come around much anymore since he started playing nurse maid to you,” Sully remarked, a sarcastic smirk painted on his face that Ian wanted to punch right off with his fist.

Sully’s words hit a nerve, considering that’s the very reason Ian still felt Mickey deserved better than him, even though Mickey assured him that wasn’t the case.  Although Mickey reassured him, that thought kept festering like a sore in the back of Ian’s mind, especially now since some cousin of the family who barely came around was able to see it.

“Shut the fuck up, Sulls,” Iggy snapped. He glanced back at Ian and they exchanged nods of understanding.

“Mickey’s in jail,” Ian blurted out, taking a long swig of his beer to get some liquid encouragement for this conversation.

Ian’s jaw clenched as he took in Sully’s chuckle and Iggy’s sarcastic scoff. “What else is fucking new?” Iggy just shrugged his shoulders and Sully continued nursing his blunt.

“No, guys.  He’s in some serious shit this time.” That seemed to get more of Iggy and Sully’s attention.

“What’s he in for?” Iggy asked as he took another pull from his beer.

Ian took a deep breath and answered on the exhale. “Attempted murder.”

“What?!” Iggy exclaimed, spitting beer onto Ian’s arm.

“What the fuck?” Sully shot up from the couch, swaying a bit from his buzz.

“Who was it?!” Iggy asked. Sully stumbled over to stand next to his cousin, both of them eyeing Ian skeptically.

“Sammi,” Ian answered.

“Who the FUCK is Sammi?” Iggy barked. “I’ll finish the fucking job and make sure his ass is dead.”

“She’s my half-sister,” Ian explained.

Iggy scoffed sarcastically. “As if there weren’t enough of you fucking Gallaghers, now there’s another one? Fuck.”

Ian took the next several minutes to explain what all went down with Sammi, watching as the two men in front of him got angrier and angrier the more he spoke.

The infamous Milkovich scowl was painted on both of their faces as Iggy slammed his beer bottle down on the coffee table. “Where is he now?”

“I went to visit him yesterday in County, but he said they’re supposed to be moving him to Beckman today.”

Ian watched as Iggy furrowed his brows in contemplation. “What do you need us to do? Find this Sammi bitch and fuck her up?”

“We have to do that run upstate today, remember?” Sully reminded Iggy. 

Iggy glanced at his cousin, clearly frustrated.  “Well, we can’t just sit on our asses and do nothing.  Mickey needs our help, Sulls.”

“I know, Iggy,” Sully nodded.

Ian looked between the two men and decided now was a good a time as any to explain the reason for his visit. “That kinda brings me to the point of why I’m here.” They both turned to look at Ian expectantly. “Mickey is going to need bail money and a good attorney,” he began.  Both men’s scowls seemed to deepen at Ian’s words.  Ian bit his bottom lip nervously as he continued. “I was thinking maybe I could go on a run with you guys and you could cut me in on the deal.”

“No fucking way,” Iggy groused.

“Ain’t fucking happening, Gallagher,” Sully agreed.

“Why not?” Ian questioned.

“I can think of several reasons,” Iggy claimed. “One,” Iggy counted on his fingers, “you’ve never been on a run with us and have no idea what the fuck to do.  Two, it’s fucking dangerous especially for your Howdy Doody looking ass. And three, and most importantly, Mickey would kill us himself if we let anything happen to you.”

Ian didn’t respond, only nodded, because he knew everything Iggy said was true, even if he didn’t want to admit it.  Mickey would lose his shit if he found out these guys let Ian go on a run with them, even if everything turned out fine.  Ian knew what the Milkoviches did and how they made their money, but he had never been actually involved with any of it, even when he lived there with them.  Mickey made sure to keep that part of their lives from touching Ian in any way.  And like Sully had said, while Mickey was living with the Gallaghers, he wasn’t involved in any of it himself. 

“Okay, so do either of you have any better ideas? I’ve already booked The Alibi for New Year’s Eve.  I’m going to throw a party, charge a cover, and sell some shit to make some money.  But it’s not going to be nearly enough. I need to make some money, and fast.”

Iggy nodded in understanding.  He knew Mickey’s bail would probably be at least $50,000 and fuck knows how much an attorney would cost. Just then, a thought occurred to him. “Why can’t Mickey just use the public defender?”

Ian surprised both men by suddenly exploding in frustration. “Because, this shit is all my fault and I want to make sure Mickey has the best representation he can get. A private attorney is his best bet. I couldn’t live with myself if I let him go to prison because of me!” Ian wiped his brow and looked down as he wondered to himself why in the fuck he just admitted that to Mickey’s family.  It was the truth, though and he was sure the guys were thinking it too.  But that doesn’t mean he wanted to remind them of that.

Iggy unexpectedly put his hand on Ian’s shoulder.  Ian was scared to look up from his current view of their dingy floor, afraid that he would come eye level with Iggy’s fist as it met his face. Instead, Iggy spoke in a soft, uncharacteristic tone. “Hey, man, it’s alright.  Look, I have an idea.”

Sully watched the exchange with interest, wondering what shit Iggy was going to get them into now.  He was relieved when Iggy didn’t agree to let Ian go with them. He wanted to help Mickey, but he didn’t want to fuck up the operation they had going to do it.  The run they were doing today was going to make them a lot of money if it all went smoothly.  That, Sully knew, was the issue.  It very rarely went completely smooth.  More often than not, at least one person walked away with, at the very least, a few broken and busted bones.  If they were lucky.

Iggy’s words broke Sully from his thoughts. “You need to call Mandy.”

Ian sighed with relief.  “That’s another thing I was going to ask you about.  I wanted to call her and let her know what was going on.”

“Yeah,” Iggy agreed. “But, I think she could help you out with the attorney situation.”

“Really?” Ian replied, his voice laced with hope. “What is she up to now? How can she help?” Ian began a barrage of questions, excited that she could potentially help him.

Iggy lowered his hand from Ian’s shoulder and scratched under his nose with his thumb. “She’s an escort.  In New York City.”

“What the fuck?” Ian exclaimed in shock. “I thought she was moving with Kenyatta to Indiana.”

Sully chimed in. “She dumped that piece of shit after he hit her again and moved to New York and has done fucking good for herself,” he said proudly.

“Wow,” Ian breathed, still in shock. As he thought about his best friend, an affectionate smile pulled at his lips.  Mandy, in New York. Damn.  He shook his head in disbelief, still reeling from the news, but then remembered the task at hand. “So, how do you think she can help?”

“Well,” Iggy began, “she mentioned something a while back about a client of hers that is an attorney with some big law firm in New York. He’s married with kids, but uses her services quite often without his wife knowing, apparently. I think she can get him to help us.” A slow smirk appeared across Iggy’s face as the other two men smiled happily at him.

 Sully wouldn’t admit it, but he was smiling mostly because he was just glad that Iggy’s idea didn’t involve them. He was being selfish, he knew, but what the fuck ever.

Ian was smiling because if this worked out, his worries about getting Mickey a good attorney could be over.  But he knew it would take a lot of convincing on his part.  Mandy had a lot at stake, going by what Iggy said.  Mandy seemed to be doing very well and she may not be open to rocking the boat for her convict brother. However, there was only one way to find out.

“Can you give me her number?”

Iggy reached in his pocket for his cell phone, scrolled to Mandy’s number and handed it to Ian for him to type into his phone.  Once that was done, Ian thanked the guys for their help, and went on his way, dialing Mandy’s number before he even made it down the steps of the Milkovich house.

________________________________________________________________________

“Hello?” Mandy answered groggily.  It was so good to hear his best friend’s voice, even if she sounded like he had just woken her up.

“Explain to me why I had to hear from Iggy and Sully about your whereabouts?” Ian teased.

“Ian! It’s so good to hear from you!” Mandy sounded fully awake now. “Yeah, sorry about that.  Shit’s been crazy. So how have you been?”

They talked for several minutes as Ian puffed on a much needed cigarette and stepped inside the nearest warm building he could find, a coffee shop called South Side Java.  This neighborhood really was going to shit, but Ian’s numb fingers and toes won out against his South Side pride as he made his way to the nearest table and took a seat.  A waitress came and took his order as he continued his conversation with Mandy. 

He regaled her with the story of what all had happened between him and Mickey, everything with Sammi, just everything. It felt so good to talk to the one person he had always confided in.  He had forgotten how much he missed this until now. Mandy filled him in on everything that had happened with Kenyatta, Ian’s jaw clenching as she told that part of her story.  He regretted not ever kicking that guy’s ass and he suddenly felt irrational anger at Mickey for not letting him slit his goddamn throat that one time.

But thankfully, that was all water under the bridge now. “So, do I need to come back home and fuck  up this Sammi bitch? You just say the word and me and my brothers will take care of it.”

God, how he had missed this woman.  He chuckled lightly.  They may have had fucked up ideas of how to handle shit, but the Milkoviches were nothing if not loyal to their small circle. He loved that about them.  The Gallaghers could learn a lot from the Milkoviches.

“No, she’s in prison for shooting at Mickey.   She better hope she doesn’t get out any time soon,” Ian sneered. Just thinking about that bitch had his fists clenching automatically.  He gripped his coffee cup tightly and put the cup to his lips, sipping the hot, delicious drink slowly, letting it warm his lungs and pool in his stomach.  It calmed his nerves almost instantly. “I kinda had another idea, Mands.”

“What’s that?” Mandy questioned.

“Iggy mentioned something about a client of yours.  An attorney you told him about? Has a wife and kids?”

Mandy was quiet for a minute as she silently went through her client roster, trying to remember who Ian was talking about.  She didn’t have the roster that some of the other more experienced escorts had yet, but she had built hers up pretty quickly, considering how new she still was.  She had several regulars too. 

“Oh yeah!” Mandy exclaimed excitedly, remembering the guy that fit Ian’s description. “I know who you’re talking about.  Yeah, he’s a partner in this huge law firm in New York, Shaffer, Babcock, and Redwine.  He’s Redwine. Slade Redwine.”

“Slade Redwine? What kind of fucking name is that?” Ian laughed.

“I know, I know. But he’s hot, loaded as fuck, and treats me like a queen, so I don’t give a shit.”

They both laughed then. Ian had to tease her some more.  He just couldn’t help himself. It had been too damn long.  “Did you say ‘Badcock?’  Because, in my experience, there’s no such thing as a bad cock.”

Mandy gave it right back to him. “You’re damn right there isn’t.  Small, maybe.  But not bad.”

They both laughed loudly, clearly enjoying the teasing they were giving each other.  They had both missed this so damn much.  As much as he didn’t want it to end, Ian needed to get back down to business. 

They both sighed as their laughter died down.  “So Mandy,” Ian began, as he poured creamer and sugar into his newly refreshed cup of coffee, “how willing do you think he would be to help Mickey? Can you find out how much he would cost? Sounds like he’s going to be a bit out of my price range, though.” Ian knew it was a long shot, but the fact that Mandy knew him might tip the scales in their favor.

“Ian, you don’t worry about a thing.  Just let me know when you need him, and he’ll be there. Just tell Mickey to let the court know that he has hired his own private attorney.”

Ian stirred his coffee as he let Mandy’s words sink in to his caffeine addled brain. “But how much is he going to cost? I need to know so I can work on getting the money up.”

“Like I said, Ian, don’t worry about it.  I’ll handle it.”

Ian was still perplexed.  He had a feeling he knew what Mandy was going to do but he was afraid to ask.  Maybe it was better if he didn’t know, but he didn’t want her doing anything to jeopardize the life she had built for herself.  He told her as much on the phone. “Mandy, I don’t want to get you into trouble.”

Mandy sighed tiredly. “Ian, would you lighten the fuck up? Look, I’m not going to do anything to get myself into trouble.  I’m just calling in a favor, that’s all.  Trust me, ok?”

“Yeah, okay.” Ian stated unsurely.  He sincerely hoped that whatever Mandy had planned didn’t backfire on her.  He certainly didn’t want her to fuck everything up for him. But she seemed determined and confident in whatever the fuck it was she had planned, so he just decided to go with it. “Mickey has his court hearing today and he’s getting moved to Beckman. I will find out how much his bail is and let him know about Redwine.”

“Ok, sounds good. And you said you are throwing a New Year’s Eve party at The Alibi to raise money for it, right?”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“Mickey would fucking hate that, you know,” Mandy warned.

“Oh, I know he would.  I have to do something, Mandy. I can’t let him sit in some jail cell because of me.  I won’t do it. He’s in there because of me and I’m going to do everything I can to bring him home to me.  Fuck knows he’s done enough for me for ten lifetimes.”

“He loves you, Ian.” The mood between them turned from teasing to seriousness in an instant. “Shit, I’ve never seen him love anybody the way he loves you.  I’d give anything to have someone look at me the way he looks at you.  Jesus.” Mandy’s mind flitted to Lip before she could tell it to stop.  She knew she had fucked that up royally, and she now realized that Lip had never loved her.  Not once did he look at her the way Mickey looked at Ian.  She never thought in a million years, she would be jealous of her brother, but what he had with Ian did just that.

And as much as it hurt to witness, she was still happy for them that they had found true love in each other, and she was willing to do whatever she could to help them.  If she couldn’t find true happiness for herself, at least somebody should. Ian was good for her brother.  When they were together, it was the happiest she had ever seen Mickey.  Even through all the bullshit circumstances they had to endure. 

“I love him, too, Mandy.  I really do.” Mandy was thankful to Ian for breaking her from that train of thought.

“I know you do,” Mandy answered sadly. “So, let me get to work on this and I will touch base with you in a couple of days, okay?”

“Sounds good. Oh, and Mandy?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

They both pressed the end call button at the same time.  Nothing else needed to be said.


	4. I've Got To Have Your Love Now, Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is Ian's plan going to work? Or will it all blow up in his face?

_“A hundred thousand dollars?!”_ Ian screeched into the phone. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I know, I know.  It’s a fuck ton of money, Ian. But what did you expect?” Mickey asked.

“Not that damn much, that’s for sure! You didn’t even do anything!” Ian was pacing in his room, wearing down the already worn carpet underneath his feet.

“Probably with my arrest record and everything, that’s the standard. But at least the state only requires you to come up with ten percent of it,” Mickey tried to reassure Ian.

“Ten thousand dollars?! It might as well be a million, Mickey! That is bullshit.”

“Look, Ian.  The public defender seems to think I have a good chance of getting off with a minimum sentence.”

Ian took a deep breath to try to calm his nerves.  The last thing Mickey needed was for him to freak the fuck out on him and make their situation seem absolutely hopeless.  It wasn’t hopeless, not yet. “That brings me to my next bit of news, Mick.”

Mick stayed silent as he waited for Ian to continue. “Mandy has an attorney client that she is going to get to represent you.”

“We can’t even afford my bail.  How in the fuck are we going to afford some candy ass private attorney, Ian?” Mickey stated, clearly frustrated.  He hated the fact that he was stuck in this shithole and couldn’t handle his shit on his own.  He hated relying on anyone else, especially Ian.  He had enough shit he needed to worry about. 

“Mandy said don’t worry about it, Mick. And I am working on getting your bail.  I didn’t know it was going to be that much, but I’ll get it.  Don’t worry.”

“Don’t worry? What do you mean, don’t worry? That’s all there is to do in here, Ian.  Worry, and work out.  What is Mandy planning? What are you doing to get my fucking bail? What the fuck is going on, man? Don’t do anything stupid, ian, or I swear to God…..”

Just then Mickey got the warning that their collect call was about to be disconnected. “It will be okay, Mickey.  I’ll talk to you soon.  Love you.”

“I love y……” the phone line disconnected. “Goddammit!” Mickey yelled, banging the receiver against phone base a couple times before hanging up.

“Calm the fuck down, Milkovich!” bellowed a guard nearby.

_Shut the fuck up_ , Mickey thought to himself. He pushed himself off the stool he was perched on and began his trek back to his cell with the guard walking closely beside him.  He had been transferred to Beckman Correctional after his court hearing this morning.  The judge was clearly familiar with the Milkovich name and he could practically feel the revulsion toward him he had as he promptly wasted no time in slamming down his gavel at him, along with the highest bail amount possible.

This was his fucking life.  He had never felt more powerless.  Powerless to stop Ian from doing something stupid, powerless to control what was happening around him.  This was so much different than his other stints in juvie.  At least then he knew he would eventually get out within a year, or much earlier if he was on his best behavior.  He didn’t know shit about what was going to happen to him now. 

Although he would never let it show on the outside, his tough, bad ass façade in place at all times in this bitch, but he was scared.  He was scared about what was going to happen to him, sure.  There was so much uncertainty right now.  Mandy all of a sudden knew rich attorneys? What the fuck? And how in the hell was he going to pay for it? He certainly wasn’t going to help some worthless South Side thug for free.

 And how in the fuck was Ian planning on raising enough money for his bail? Ian wouldn’t tell him shit about how he was planning on doing that.  And he just knew it involved something that was going to get him thrown in jail with him or worse, hurt or killed.  Oh fuck, Mickey couldn’t even think about that.  It was like a knife turning in his stomach, imagining anything happening to Ian. 

That’s what scared him the most out of everything.  That Ian was going to get hurt, and the fact that Mickey was stuck in this hell hole and couldn’t do anything about it, or look after him.  Who was making sure he was taking his meds? Who was watching for signs of his mania?

Mickey plopped down on his cot just as the cell doors slammed shut loudly.  He stared up at the bottom of the bunk above him, his mind racing with everything going on. He knew Ian blamed himself for Mickey being in here, but Mickey knew it was his own fault.  It was his decision to fuck Sammi up, which was stupid, no matter how honorable his intentions were. 

But as stupid as it may have been and as worried as he was about Ian now, he didn’t regret what he did.  His only regret was that the bitch didn’t fucking die.  She hurt the man that Mickey loved, and she had to pay for it.  That’s how you did things as a Milkovich.  Somebody hurts you or someone you care about, you get even.  An eye for an eye. The only thing he regretted was not being there for Ian now, when he needed him the most. 

He needed to go out to the yard and work out some of his pent up anxiety, but as he heard the cell doors open again, he rolled over and faced the wall, pretending to sleep.  He knew it was his cell mate, Bobby Maxwell, returning from the yard himself, and he was not in the mood for conversation.  Bobby was a bear of a man, six foot five with head to toe tattoos, and intimidating as fuck.  He hadn’t really had time to feel him out yet, but just in stature alone, Mickey knew not to fuck with him.  The last thing he wanted was to make an enemy out of his cell mate. So, he knew it was best to avoid him right now until he was in the right frame of mind not to piss off that beast. Whenever the fuck that would be.

__________________________________________________________________________

 “Ok, Milkovich, let’s go.”  The middle aged guard with the salt and pepper hair barked at him from his cell door. He hated that son of a bitch.  He was a mean, ornery old man who took pleasure out of berating all of the prisoners. What other choice did they have but to take it? It’s not like they could defend themselves.  His cellmate had tried that, punching this fucker in his jaw, which had just landed him two weeks in the hole. Fuck that, it wasn’t worth it.  But he had earned a new respect for the guy.  He didn’t take any shit, that was for sure.

It had been two weeks since the day Mickey had been transferred to Beckman, so he was trying like hell to keep his nose clean.  Fuck knows this asshole made that damn near impossible. He stood up tentatively, walking toward the guard, not sure where they were headed. “I said, move it, asshole!” The guard grabbed Mickey roughly and pushed him out into the hall.  It took everything in him not to punch that fucker himself.

The only thing that kept him calm was picturing Ian’s beautiful face.  That red hair with the couple strands that fell over his forehead.  Maybe Ian was here to visit him.  He had been back a couple days ago, which excited Mickey to no end.  Even this old fart couldn’t dampen his mood at the prospect of seeing Ian again.

However, Mickey’s shoulders slumped dejectedly as he realized they weren’t going to the visitors room, but instead heading to what looked like an interrogation room.  A few minutes later, Mickey was sitting at an ugly, gray table with ugly, gray cinderblock walls.  Yeah, that’s pretty much how he envisioned his future-ugly and gray.  Mickey slammed his handcuffed fists down in anger on top of the flimsy table he was now sitting at, making the legs scrape loudly across the floor with the force. 

“Hey, chill the fuck out, Milkovich,” another guard warned as he banged his night stick a few times against the double sided mirror.  If Mickey’s situation wasn’t so dire, he might almost laugh.  It was like an episode right out of Law and Order SVU.

At that exact moment, some burly dude carrying a brief case and wearing a gray pin striped suit with his blonde hair slicked back with what looked to be about a pound of gel, walked in and shut the door behind him. He was wearing black rimmed glasses and a blue striped tie.  Mickey could see hints of tattoos on his arms as he removed his suit jacket and hung it on the chair opposite him. “Mr. Milkovich? How are you doing today?”

Mickey shook his head, his body shuddering with the anger he was trying to tamp down.  “Just peachy.”

The meathead ignored Mickey’s attitude, obviously immune to it.  He spoke with authority as he sat down across from Mickey.  “My name is Slade Redwine, and I will be your attorney for this case.”

Mickey looked him in the eye and scrunched up his face.  “Slade Redwine? What kind of fucking name is that?”

Without missing a beat, the attorney said, “It’s the name of the guy who’s gonna save your ass, so I suggest  you shut the fuck up and just answer my questions, okay?”

Mickey’s eyebrows shot up and the attorney gave Mickey a pointed look, daring him to say something else.  Mickey immediately liked the guy.  This must be Mandy’s client.  Damn, Mickey had to respect a guy who could hold his own to a South Side thug. He gulped loudly and answered, “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Slade began pulling papers out of his briefcase and arranging them on the table in some kind of semblance of order.  “Now, let’s start from the beginning.”

____________________________________________________________________________________

            It was the day before New Year’s Eve, and Ian was busy getting everything organized for the party tomorrow night. He had a lot of work cut out for him if he was going to make anywhere near enough money for Mickey’s astronomical bail.  He still couldn’t believe how much it was.  It was fucking ridiculous. Ian had visited Mickey a few more times and found out that Mandy had come through with her attorney client. Mickey seemed to really like him, which Ian knew, was saying a lot, so he must have been an okay guy.  Ian had yet to meet him.  But from what Mickey told him, the guy knew what the fuck he was doing.  So, that was one less worry on Ian’s mind.

 Surprisingly, everybody had lended a hand to help out.  That is, everybody but Fiona.  She had kept her word that she didn’t want any part of any of this.  Fuck her, he didn’t need her help.  Debbie had invited some friends of hers and hung up fliers all over town, Lip had borrowed decorations from his dorm supply room so Ian wouldn’t have to pay for it.  Hell, even Frank had invited a lot of people to the party, which Ian was sure had nothing to do with him being the least bit altruistic.  Just an excuse for him and some of his lounge lizard buddies to get shit faced again.  As long as they showed up and paid their money to get in and to drink their booze, Ian didn’t give a shit.

            Carl was still in juvie, but had somehow managed to get one of his buddies on the outside to give them some guns to raffle off.  That kid was something else. Ian didn’t dare ask any questions about where the guns came from.  Kev and Vee of course had lent him the bar for the night, so he didn’t ask them for anything else.  They had done more than enough, but they still planned on being there and offering their support, and watching over their bar, which Ian couldn’t blame them.

            Ian was charging fifteen dollars per person, twenty five dollars per couple.  He asked around and found out that was pretty standard for New Year’s Eve parties.  Ian had never been to an official NYE party at a club, so he really had no idea what to charge.  Even when he was dancing at the Fairy Tale, he was so tweaked out all the time, he didn’t know what the hell was going on. He knew people on the South Side were all dirt poor, but also knew they would find the money somehow if it meant going out, having a good time, and getting plastered. Ian planned to help them with all three.  Kev and Vee had graciously let Ian use their liquor in the bar too.  He knew it was costing them a lot of money and he would pay them back somehow.  Maybe he could work some shifts behind the bar to pay off his debt. 

            He would worry about that later.  Right now, he and Lip were busy hanging up the decorations he took from his college.  They were also spreading the word to anybody who came in there.   Ian was standing on a bar stool hanging a sign with Lip spotting him, when all of a sudden, Fiona and her husband, Gus, walked in.  Ian was so shocked he stumbled on the stool and would have fallen on his ass if Lip hadn’t caught him by his legs. “Yo, Ian.  You alright?”

            “Yeah,” Ian’s voice trailed off as he kept his eyes on his sister and her husband.  Lip, thankfully, helped him down, because Ian wasn’t paying a bit of attention to what he was doing.  “I’m good, Lip. Thanks.”

            Lip followed Ian’s eyes, and muttered, “Oh, shit.”

            They both walked over to the entrance where Fiona and Gus still stood, looking lost and awkward. Vee had obviously told Fiona what Ian was doing, and Fiona had obviously told Gus what all had been going on between them.  You can’t shit in the South Side without everybody knowing what color it is.

            “Hey, Ian,” Fiona began tentatively, her eyes darting between Lip and Ian.

            “Hey, Fiona,” answered Ian. “Gus.” Gus nodded and gave a nervous wave.

  “What can I do for you?” Ian crossed his arms over his chest defensively. Lip did the same in solidarity. Lip didn’t like Fiona’s attitude about the whole situation any more than Ian did. Mickey had been nothing but good to Ian.  Even if they didn’t get along that well, Lip couldn’t deny how much Mickey loved his brother.  That made him okay in his book.

            “Look, I told Gus about your party tomorrow night, and he wanted to offer to have his band play.  For free, of course.” Fiona took a deep breath as she waited for Ian’s reaction.

            Ian released his arms back to his sides.  Lip did the same.  “Well, that’s very nice of you, Gus.  Thank you.” He reached his hand out and Gus took it in a firm handshake.  Lip shook his hand as well and offered his thanks.  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, we have a lot of work to get done before tomorrow night.” Ian turned on his heel and went back to the sign he was hanging.

            “We’ll be here around seven to set up, Ian,” Gus said.

            Ian glanced over at him again as he began climbing back up on the stool. “Sounds good, Gus.  Thanks again.  I really appreciate it.”

            “Thanks, Gus,” Lip added as he made sure his brother didn’t almost break his neck again.

            Gus and Fiona exchanged a look, and understanding what she meant without her saying, he kissed her on the cheek, and turned and left the bar.

            “Ian, look…..”

            Ian stopped what he was doing and put his hand up in front of him.  “Save it, Fiona.  If using Gus’ band means I have to listen to your mouth, you can tell him to forget about it. I have nothing to say to you.”

The mood in the bar became ominous as the other patrons recognized tension in the air. Fiona, not one to be dismayed, continued on. “Listen, I’m sorry, okay? I was wrong for all those things I said about Mickey. I thought a lot about what you said, and you’re right.  I have no room to judge anybody.  Especially someone who has been as good to you as Mickey has.  None of us are perfect.  God knows I’m not and I’ve fucked up my life plenty.  I love you, Ian, and I only want what’s best for you. If Mickey makes you happy, then I will support that in any way I can. “

            Ian made his way back down to the floor as Lip looked on nervously.  He was proud of his sister for what she said.  Lip was usually really good at calling bullshit, and this didn’t seem like that at all.  She seemed to be really sincere.  He just wanted his siblings back on speaking terms again.  He supported his brother in this fight, but he hoped this would put an end to it so he wouldn’t have to choose sides anymore.

            As if reading Lip’s thoughts, Ian asked, “You really mean that?”

            “Yes, I do,” Fiona nodded firmly. “That’s why I want to give you what money we have in the squirrel fund. It’s only about a thousand dollars right now, but tips at Patsy’s have been really good lately, so…..” Fiona trailed off as tears began forming in the corners of her eyes. She wiped at them before they had a chance to fall.  “And Gus said he would help out with the bills if we fall short.”

            With those words, Ian started tearing up as well.  He couldn’t believe what he had just heard. He took two big steps toward his sister and wrapped his arms around her and held her tight.  Lip joined in too, and all three of them just stood there, holding each other as the tears flowed freely from all of them now.

            Ian was the first to let go.  They separated and wiped their faces with the back of their hands.  “There’s no way in hell I’m taking that money, Fiona.”

            Fiona scoffed. “Why not?”

            “Because I know how hard it is for us to build up that squirrel fund for the winter and I know how expensive it is to feed all of us fucking Gallaghers.  And there’s one more on the way? No fucking way, Fiona.  I appreciate the offer, though.”

            “I figured you were going to say that, so at least take this.” Fiona reached in her bag that was slung over her chest and pulled out a thick, white, sealed envelope. “The waitresses at Patsy’s took up a collection. It’s only about five hundred dollars.” She handed the envelop over to a shell shocked Ian, who took the envelop and gave her another hug of appreciation.

“Thank you, Fi.”

Fiona patted her brother on the back and smiled. “You’re welcome, little brother.”

            “Wait…..” Lip interrupted. “What do you mean ‘one more on the way?’” Lip looked like he had just seen a ghost.

            “You guys haven’t told him yet?” Ian asked incredulously.

            Fiona couldn’t help but look guilty.  “There’s been a lot going on.  It just slipped my mind.”

            “Told me what?!” Lip implored.

            “Debbie’s pregnant.” They both answered.

            “What the fuck, you guys? How did you all just forget to tell me! Who’s the father?”

            “We think it’s Derek, but Debbie still hasn’t said for sure,” Fiona answered.

            “Derek? Who the fuck is Derek? I’m gonna hunt him down and kick his ASS!” Fiona and Ian both shook their heads and laughed at their brother.  “What’s so fucking funny? The fact that Debbie is pregnant or the fact that nobody bothered to mention it to me?”

            “Brother, it’s going to be okay,” Ian placated.  He put a hand on Lip’s shoulder, trying to calm him down. That finally seemed to do the trick. 

            “Well, as soon as this party is over with, I am sitting down with her and we are having a long talk. Debbie, pregnant.  I can’t believe it.”

            Ian couldn’t help but fuck with his brother.  “It’s kinda late for the ‘talk’ don’t ya think?” Ian winked at him.

            Lip put his hands on his hips and stared pointedly at Ian.  “Shut the fuck up before I rip your head off, along with all of the decorations we’ve put up so far.”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry big brother,” Ian apologized, putting his hands up in surrender.

“Hey, could you guys use some help?” Fiona asked hopefully.

Both brothers looked at their sister fondly, their spat seemingly forgotten. “Sure, Fi.”

“Okay, let me go get Gus so his tall ass can help us hang this shit up.” Fiona turned and ran toward the front door to get her husband.

            Ian and Lip exchanged a look that said they were both relieved that the Gallagher clan was once more fully intact.

            ______________________________________________________________________

            It was 10:03 pm on New Year’s Eve night, and The Alibi Room is in full swing.  It seems like everybody in the neighborhood was there. Ian had never been more thankful that the one thing the South Side was good at was fucking partying.  There were wall to wall bodies, dancing to Gus’ band on the dancefloor.  They really were an awesome band.  Lip and Ian were walking around, making sure everyone was having a good time.  Frank was being his usual self at the bar, keeping the drunks entertained. Iggy and Sully served as the bouncers for the night.

            Fiona and Debbie were collected the cover charges at the door, making sure no one got in without paying.  Kev and Vee were serving the drinks, keeping the patrons happy and drunk. In all the excitement, Ian momentarily forgot the purpose behind this epic night. Mickey.  He thought about Mickey sitting alone in his jail cell, lying there, spending his new year in prison.  Ian sat down and nursed his latest beer, a wave of depression crashing over him.

            “Oh, no you don’t, brother. Get up!” Lip recognized that look all too well.  The realization of why they were all there was hitting Ian, but no way in hell was he going to let Ian get down and wallow in self-pity.  “Tonight is for Mickey.  He wouldn’t want you sitting here all sulky.  Get your ass out there and dance! Or can you only dance when old geezers are stuffing dollar bills into your little boy shorts?” He pushed Ian onto the dancefloor.  He held his beer with one hand and gave Lip the finger with the other. God, he loved his brother.

            Ian began gyrating to the beat thumping up through the floor of the bar and bouncing off the walls.  After a couple minutes, there were girls dancing up on him, swaying their hips in time with the music. They obviously didn’t get the memo that Ian was gay, but he was having too much fun to do anything about it.  And what was wrong with a little fun? After all, like Lip said, this night was for Mickey.

            The song ended from the bandstand stopped, and before they began their next one, Ian was able to hear a loud commotion coming from the front of the bar.  Oh shit, there’s probably a fight or something, which wasn’t uncommon in this fucking place.  Ian slammed his beer down onto the nearest table and made his way toward the noise, preparing to handle whatever shit had just gone down.

The crowd of people at the door saw Ian coming, and weirdly, they parted like the goddamn Red Sea.  What the fuck? Ian’s eyes searched for whatever was the cause of this disturbance, as the band started playing a slow tempo love song. And then, right in front of him, he saw a man facing away from him, with a head of black hair that could only belong to one person.  Ian knew that hair better than his own. But before he could react, the man turned around, a huge smile on his face. Sure enough, it was Mickey fucking Milkovich.  Ian didn’t think, didn’t say anything, just ran to him and wrapped his arms around him as the crowd around them erupted in whoops and hollers and applause.  It was like something out of a sappy fucking romantic comedy.  Only this wasn’t a movie.  This was fucking real.  Just to be sure, Ian released Mickey and looked him up and down, touching him all over his arms, his chest, and back up to his shoulders.

They finally locked eyes, happy blue to confused green. Ian picked his mouth up off the floor once he realized that he was not, in fact, dreaming. He was the first to speak, if it could be called that, considering he wasn’t able to form any complete sentences. “How? When? What?”

“Here, Gallagher.” Ian realized for the first time that Mickey was holding a bottle of champagne with a note attached. “Just read this.”

The whole place had gone silent, the band even stopping so everyone could witness their reunion.  With shaking hands, Ian took the bottle from Mickey and opened the note attached to it.

            _Ian,_

_Here is my gift to you for the New Year. An expensive fucking bottle of champagne and Mickey Milkovich.  Enjoy both, but hopefully you enjoy Mickey more than the champagne.  Happy New Year, Ian.  I have a feeling it will be a good one._

_Love,_

_Mandy_

            “Mandy?”

            Ian was still confused as he looked up at his boyfriend, whose eyebrows were raised high on his head as he smirked at Ian. “Yep, apparently the escort industry pays fucking good. She paid my bail and got me released. I got out this afternoon.” Ian looked over at Iggy and Sully, who just shrugged.  They fucking knew he was out this afternoon and didn’t tell him.  The bastards.  But damn what a great surprise.  Ian wasted no more time talking and put the champagne bottle down and pulled Mickey to him and kissed him long and deep, as the crowd around them erupted again in wolf whistles and cheers and the band started playing a loud, rocking tune. Oh, how Ian had missed these lips.  He didn’t know if he would ever taste them again, and now, because of Mandy, he could.

            Mickey reluctantly pulled away from the red, plump lips of his boyfriend that he wanted to kiss forever. “I have another gift for you, Ian,” Mickey whispered quietly in Ian’s ear so he could hear him.

            “If it’s anything better than this, I don’t want it,” flirted Ian. He placed his forehead on Mickey’s, as they just stood there, basking in the warmth of the other’s body, the love evident between them.

            “What if I told you it’s over?” Mickey asked.

            Ian’s head jerked up as he looked at Mickey quizzically.  “What do you mean, it’s over?” Ian was really getting scared now.

            Noticing Ian’s panic, Mickey realized how he worded that and how wrong Ian took it, and quickly tried to clarify himself. “No, no, nothing like that, Ian. My case.  It’s over.”

            “What?! How?” This couldn’t be happening. 

            “Well, that attorney Mandy got me is damn good at his job.  He did some digging on Sammi, and found out a whole bunch of shit about her, ruining her credibility.  And that’s not even the worst of it.  She was fucking that asshole Judge Malloy.  So the case was thrown out and that fucker was disbarred.”

            “How did I not hear about this shit, Mick?” Ian asked, completely flabbergasted.

            “All the shit hit the fan just recently and before the media got wind of it, Mandy bailed me out. There will be a shit storm in a day or so though. But what the fuck ever.” Mickey placed his hand on Ian’s cheek as he leaned into it and closed his eyes, relishing in Mickey’s touch.

            “I love you so much, Ian,” Mickey said sincerely.

            Ian opened his eyes, trying to convey the love he had for the man he had in front of him, feeling like the words just weren’t enough. “I love you too, Mick.”

            They brought their lips together again, kissing sweetly, until their tongues darted out and the kiss became more heated, while their hands held onto each other for dear life, each one of them afraid to let go. So they didn’t.  They kissed hungrily, forgetting that they were in a room full of people.  They didn’t give a fuck.  Their need was so raw and so ravenous, that they weren’t sure they were going to be able to make it to midnight without attacking each other. 

            Ian reluctantly broke their kiss, as there was something pressing on his mind that he needed to ask.  “I’ve got a question for you, Mick.”

            “Um, okay….”

            “Will you go on a date with me?”

            “What, now? It’s New Year’s Eve, Ian.”

            “No, Friday night. Eight o’clock.” Ian looked so hopeful and who was Mickey to disappoint his adorable redhead?

            “Sure.  It’s a date.” Ian beamed at his boyfriend and brought his arms around him in another fierce hug. "So, where are we going?" Mickey asked as Ian released him. 

            “The Sizzler,” Ian winked.

            ______________________________________________________________________

                        By some fucking miracle, they made it until 12:01am.  They spent the time up until then dancing slowly on the dancefloor, whether it was a fast or a slow song, they didn’t care. They kissed lazily, trying not to get too into it so they would be able to last until midnight. A bunch of people came over to talk to them and congratulate them, including the Milkoviches and all of the Gallaghers, Kev and Vee.   It was an absolute perfect night and Ian and Mickey both couldn’t wait until they could tell everybody to fuck off so they could go be alone.

            So at exactly 12:01am, in the middle of the band playing Auld Lang Syne, Ian grabbed Mickey by the collar of his jacket and practically dragged him out the front door. But not before stopping in front of Iggy and Sully. “Um, fellas, I would suggest you stay away from the house for the next couple hours.” Ian glanced over at Mickey who was returning his heated stare while both of their breaths picked up speed.

            “Make it three hours,” Mickey stated  as he pushed his boyfriend impatiently out the front door, ignoring Iggy and Sully’s snickering.

            They ran off into the night, laughing and happy and carefree for the first time in a damn long time.

            ______________________________________________________________________________

            As soon as they entered the Milkovich house, Ian slammed Mickey against the door and crashed their mouths together, his tongue licking into Mickey’s mouth with a hunger he knew only the man in front of him could satisfy. Ian tore off Mickey’s jacket and threw it across the room somewhere.  Mickey did the same with Ian’s, not giving a fuck where it landed.  He just wanted to feel Ian’s skin on his and he couldn’t get there fast enough.  Shirts came off next, and they came together, flush against each other.  They had broken their kiss and were just embracing, relishing in the feel of the other on his skin.

            Mickey brought his hand up Ian’s back and ran it up the back of his neck, into those soft red strands that he loved so much.  Had missed so much. Ian splayed his hands on Mickey’s bare back, running them back and forth, trying to memorize every sinewy muscle, every curve.  He still couldn’t believe that they were together, with nothing else seemingly in their way.  That’s not the way their luck worked, so just in case, Ian was going to memorize every part of Mickey’s fantastic body.

            Mickey pulled his hand back down to the back of Ian’s neck and brought their mouths together again in a hot, searing kiss that had them both breathless when they eventually parted. Ian’s hands went to the front of Mickey’s pants and worked on unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans. “God, I’ve missed you, Mick.”

            Ian hooked his thumbs into Mickey’s pants and pulled them down slowly, along with his boxer briefs. Mickey kicked off his shoes and stepped out of his pants, Ian discarding them in the nearby hallway. Ian took Mickey’s hard cock into his hand and began pumping steadily, using the precome that had already formed as a natural lubricant. “Oh, fuck.  I’ve missed you too, Ian,” Mickey breathed as he hands came up to tangle in Ian’s hair.

            Ian ran his tongue slowly from the base of Mickey’s cock all the up to the tip and over the top, almost like a roller coaster that was going up and up and then over the hilt until it barreled down the other side.  Which is what Ian did when he came over the top of Mickey’s cock and swallowed him down like a man starved. He took all of Mickey’s dick in his mouth until it hit the back of his throat, his nose breathing in the sweat and sex that was mingled in the tendrils of Mickey’s pubic hair.  It was the greatest smell in the world and so uniquely Mickey.

            Ian popped off his cock and pulled it up some so he could take each of his balls in his mouth, rolling them around gently, flicking at them with his tongue.  The filthy moans coming from his boyfriend were spurring him on, giving him so much pleasure. He ran his tongue back up Mickey’s length until he reached the tip, where he swirled his tongue around and around, driving Mickey crazy, judging by the way Mickey was pulling roughly on his hair now.  Ian fucking loved that he did that to him.

            He sucked Mickey’s dick back down, swallowing him whole a couple more times until he popped off of him and ran his tongue up Mickey’s midsection, his belly, then his abs, then his pecs, stopping to tease each nipple with a few flicks of his tongue. He didn’t get very far though because Mickey grabbed his head and guided it to his mouth that all but devoured him with his arousal.  They kissed roughly, Mickey pulling on Ian’s hair to guide him the way he wanted his head to go.  That was new, and Ian fucking loved it.

            Suddenly, Mickey grabbed Ian’s shoulders and pushed him backwards towards his bedroom, Ian almost tripping on shit a couple times, but Mickey was determined, fixing Ian with heat in his eyes.  Ian couldn’t remember seeing Mickey so worked up.  Ian was always fucking worked up, but Mickey didn’t show this side of himself usually, and Ian was pleasantly surprised.  And really fucking turned on.

            They finally made it to the bedroom, and Mickey shoved Ian in the chest, watching with hooded eyes as he fell bonelessly to the mattress.  Mickey immediately climbed on top of him and ran his tongue along the top of his jeans, sucking and biting him gently on his abs while undoing his fly.  Not able to wait until Ian could get his pants off, Mickey shoved his hand down his jeans and palmed his rock hard dick in his hands, rubbing steadily up and down Ian’s considerable length.

            Mickey came up for air from working Ian’s chest with his mouth long enough to whisper hotly in his ear. “Fuck, I’ve missed this cock.  I want it hot and hard inside me.”

            Ian gulped loudly.  He wasn’t sure what had gotten into Mickey, but he damn sure wasn’t going to waste time questioning it. He grabbed Mickey by the shoulders and flipped him over, ready to do exactly what Mickey requested. “Take your pants off.” When Ian obliged, Mickey said, “Now climb up me until I tell you to stop.” Goddamn, this was making Ian even harder, getting bossed around in bed by Mickey.  Mickey was usually the submissive one, letting Ian take control in the bedroom. Ian didn’t think it could get any hotter than Mickey giving up that control to him, but fuck was he wrong.  Ian loved this side of Mickey. He continued his trek up Mickey’s body until his knees were even with his shoulders.  “Okay, stop.”

            Ian’s cock was lined up with Mickey’s mouth, but before he had time to process that, his cock disappeared in Mickey’s mouth.  Ian moaned and threw his head back as Mickey’s warm mouth enveloped him, causing pleasure to ripple through his entire body. “Goddamn, Mick.  Your mouth is incredible.”

            Mickey moved his head up and down to take Ian in all the way and pull him back out, his hands resting on Ian’s ass and squeezing gently as he sucked.  He felt so good and heavy on Mickey’s tongue.    So much so that he didn’t want to ever stop sucking this cock.  Mickey didn’t know what had come over him tonight.  He just had a visceral need for this man that he wanted to take control.  He was so goddamn happy to be reunited with the love of his life, and apparently his unrelenting happiness made him a bossy fuck in bed.  But so far, Ian didn’t seem to mind it. In fact, he seemed to fucking love it.

            Mickey’s head came up to take all of Ian’s cock in again, but this time he stayed in place, Ian’s cock sitting down his throat as he swallowed around it.  He felt it twitch and he smiled up at Ian lecherously as he lowered his head, effectively removing Ian from his mouth.  He leaned over to search in the top drawer of his night stand and pulled out a condom and a bottle of lube.

            “What do you want, Mickey?” Ian asked, as he brought his lips to Mickey’s neck and sucked and bit him not too gently.  Mickey turned his head, giving Ian more room to work his mouth on him.

            “I want you to fuck me, and I want to see you,” Mickey said with confidence. Ian brought his lips back to Mickey’s mouth and kissed him fervently, with all the love he had to give. Mickey moaned into his mouth as their tongues thrashed together.  Ian then took Mickey’s lower lip in his teeth and pulled, eliciting a lustful growl from the man under him. He replaced his teeth with his lips and sucked on that full, delicious bottom lip. 

            Ian broke away from Mickey’s lips and made his way down his body, kissing and licking as he went.  Mickey’s hands went to Ian’s hair, and lightly pushed on Ian’s head, making his need known.  Ian didn’t need him to tell him what he wanted before they got to the actual fucking.  They knew each other well enough to know what the other liked.  Ian bit each one of Mickey’s hip bones, then lapped his tongue over the bites.  He grabbed Mickey’s legs and flipped them quickly over his head, making Mickey groan in anticipation.  Ian looked down at the feast in front of him and licked his lips before lowering his head.

            Ian’s tongue licked over Mickey’s hole slowly at first.  But the louder Mickey moaned, the faster Ian got, traveling up to his perineum and back down again. He rolled his tongue and proceeded to fuck Mickey with it, faster and faster until Mickey was a panting, moaning mess.  “Oh, fuck, Ian.  Fuck me, please.  I’m gonna come if you don’t stop.”

            Satisfied with himself, Ian slowly lowered Mickey’s legs and rubbed in circles on his thighs, hoping he didn’t stretch his legs too far. He grabbed the tube of lube, popped the top, and poured a generous amount on two fingers.  Ian didn’t even bother with starting out with just one anymore.  He knew Mickey would just tell him to come the fuck on.  Once those fingers were ready, he slowly sunk them into Mickey’s hole as he hissed through the initial intrusion.

            After a couple times in and out, with Ian hitting Mickey’s prostate with his long fingers, Mickey had had enough.  “Ok, I’m good.  Get on me.” Ian rolled the condom on and poured some more lube onto his cock and stroked it up and down until the whole thing was covered.

            He hovered over Mickey’s body, and lined his cock up to Mickey’s hole. “Wrap your legs around my waist,” Ian said. Mickey did as he asked, locking his feet together at the ankles. Then painfully slowly, Ian sunk into Mickey’s wet heat, at the same time bringing his mouth down to Mickey’s to capture his first moan.  A few moments later, they were both moaning as Ian propped himself up on his elbows and began pounding into Mickey at a relentless pace. “Holy fuck, you feel good, Mick.”

            Mickey wrapped his arms around Ian’s shoulders, causing Ian to lower himself just a bit to keep his pace, until they were flush against each other, their sweat soaked bodies sliding effortlessly against one another.  Mickey reached down and grabbed Ian’s ass with both hands and pushed him up into him. “Harder, Ian! Make me come!”

            Ian stuttered just a second, Mickey’s motion causing a break in his rhythm, but Ian was too turned on to care.   He began pistoning into Mickey even harder, hitting his prostate dead on with each thrust. Each time he did, Mickey would moan, each moan coming out louder than the last one.  “Oh, fuck, Ian.  I’m gonna come. Shit. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!”

            A couple more thrusts and Mickey did just that, untouched, coming all over his chest, some of it shooting onto his chin. Ian thrusted Mickey through his aftershocks mercilessly, chasing his own, until finally, he stilled inside Mickey and came hard inside the condom. He collapsed, spent and satiated, on top of Mickey, his body moving up and down as Mickey’s chest heaved, his chest heaving as well.  They lay there for a few minutes, listening to each other’s heart beats coming down.  Just reveling in the afterglow of their fantastic fucking.

            “Holy shit,” Ian was finally able to say.

            “Holy fuck, Ian,” Mickey breathed. “Goddamn, that was good.”

            “We still haven’t lost our touch, have we?” Ian smirked up at his boyfriend.

            “Hell, if anything, I think we’ve gotten even better,” Mickey chuckled lightly.

            “I didn’t think that was possible, Mick.”        

            “Me either, Ian. Me, either.  But, fuck.” Mickey wiped his forehead with his hand as he looked down into the sparking eyes of his boyfriend as he smiled goofily at him. “What?”    

            Ian rose up from his perch on Mickey’s chest and placed a sweet kiss on his boyfriend’s lips, causing him to return his goofy grin. “Happy New Year, Mick.’

            Mickey cupped Ian’s face with his hands and kissed him with every ounce of love he had in him. “Happy New Year, Ian.”

            They embraced lovingly as they both glanced over at the champagne bottle on top of Mickey’s dresser. Most people would have already torn into the bubbly to celebrate the coming New Year.  But Ian and Mickey were saving the champagne for a truly special occasion: their first date at The Sizzler.

 


End file.
